


Something More This Time

by Ride4812



Series: Waiting On My Own Too Long [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 78,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ride4812/pseuds/Ride4812
Summary: This is the sequel to "One More Night." Please read that first!
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Waiting On My Own Too Long [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146308
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: All Night

Mickey let his head fall back against the wall of the dented stall turning his cheek to the side and  
allowing the chill of the metal to cool his hot, red skin. Did he drink too much? It was incredibly  
warm, the air so thick, he was struggling to catch his breath. He wished he wasn’t wearing his  
sweater. He wanted to take it off, but he knew that his hands wouldn't work properly enough to  
do so. Where were his hands? Fuck. He wanted to lie down, needed to feel the ground, his body  
was so heavy. He felt like he couldn’t possibly hold himself up for another second. He let out a  
deep moan and turned his neck so he could abate the fever in his other cheek, “I’m dying,” he  
rasped.

He fanned out his tattooed fingers trying to get some sensation back in them; they were quivering.  
He needed to latch onto something. He dropped his arms down so that he could still his digits by  
grabbing into soft, red hair. He moaned again, as the head bobbed up and down. “Shhhhhh….” A  
muffled mouth warned.

“You’re fucking killing me,” Mickey croaked, voice wrecked. His legs were quickly turning from  
lead to jello, shaking, wobbling. He punched out a groan when the mouth sunk deeper around  
him, drawing him entirely down his throat. He felt his balls tighten, spasm. He was close. A heavy  
tongue was licking at his slit now, cleaning up the precum that was leaking like a faucet. While he  
gasped for air, his slightly parted lips were fully breached by two fingers, which he obediently  
began to suck on. If he was going to die, this was the way he would want to go anyway.

The talented mouth drew him back in, his tip pushed against the ridges on the back of Ian’s throat.  
The fire was creeping up from his groin, to his pelvis, before settling in his stomach. Just as he  
was about to grumble his warning, he felt two fingers snake through his ass cheeks, and push hard  
through the tight muscles, his narrow hole burning with pain only to ignite into pleasure when  
those fingers expertly reached his prostate seconds later. Everything went black as his body  
trembled and quaked through its release.

Then there were lips, sloppy and wet pressing against his own, hands cupping his flushed cheeks.  
The kiss was consuming, keeping his head spinning moments after his body had unwound. He  
could taste his own salt on Ian's tongue, heady and addictive contributing to Mickey's high. Being  
with Ian was always intense, his passion so devouring, never failing to set Mickey aflame.

"Goddam Gallagher, that was fucking good," Mickey sighed pulling away from the kiss to rest his  
head on Ian's bare, firm chest... exhausted. "Need a cigarette, but can't move."

"You gotta, my breaks almost over," Ian informed him rubbing his hands up and down Mickey's  
sweater covered arms.

Ian got two 20 minute breaks on his shift and instead of resting or smoking a cigarette, he opted to  
take 'Mickey breaks' alternating between blowjobs and quick fucks in the bathroom to take the  
edge off of his boyfriend.

Ian knew that it was tough for Mickey to watch him dance mostly because of the gawking from  
other men, but partially because sitting at the bar watching him half naked and gyrating all night  
left Mickey with perpetual case of blue balls.

Maybe, though, these were just excuses Ian used to cover up the fact that he couldn't get enough  
of the other man and tasting Mickey was the sustenance he needed to make it through the night.

"Shit, alright," Mickey said picking his head up and rubbing his palm against his sweaty forehead.  
He bit back a loud guffaw when Ian leaned into his neck to give him a wet, raspberry on the  
tender skin. "Get the fuck outta here," Mickey laughed, shoving Ian back playfully.

"Had to snap your ass out of it," Ian defended with a smirk.

Mickey rolled his eyes and spanked Ian's faux leather clad ass as he exited the stall. He made his  
way over to the sink to splash cold water on his face and looked up in the mirror to see Ian behind  
him, arms resting over his shoulders, beaming into the mirror, "We're a damn good looking  
couple, Mick." Ian stated plainly.

Mickey started to grin, but pulled it back choosing instead to wipe himself off with a paper towel.  
"Fuck off."

Ian hummed and pressed his lips gently against Mickey's cheek, only to blow another noisy  
raspberry. Before Mickey could properly retaliate, Ian had turned on his heels to high tail it out of  
the bathroom with Mickey calling after him "Yeah, I'll get you back later, tough guy."

After braving the frigid early February air to get his nicotine fix, Mickey made his way back to the  
bar, "Another, Jack and Orange, Moe."

"Still Tim," the bartender corrected, even though he had secretly grown to like both the nickname  
and the gruff guy over the last month.

"Yeah, whatever," Mickey replied sitting down on the bar stool and turning his attention to Ian's  
lean, muscular body moving to the music. He wondered idly how the asshole ate like a damn pig  
and still kept those defined abs.

His eyes dropped to the cut V of his hips and he pushed his eyebrows down with his palm,  
squinting his eyes shut trying to erase the salacious thoughts from his mind. He could feel himself  
growing hard again. Shit.

"It must be torture for you to watch him," Tim said sliding Mickey his drink. Mickey threw down  
a few bucks, "Know it's torture for me," He continued, "Can't look at him too long. He's like the  
sun. Burns after a while."

"Know what else is gonna burn?" Mickey asked nudging his nose with his knuckle.  
Tim looked at him inquisitively.

"Your ass after I light that shit up with a fuckin blowtorch. Keep your eyes to yourself, dick  
breath." Mickey snapped.

Tim laughed. He was used to the dark threats that rolled easily off of Mickey's tongue, but were  
never followed through on, "I can't help that I have an appreciation of beautiful things. It is so cute  
how jealous you get, though. I love it."

Mickey just flicked him off and turned his attention back to Ian. He WAS beautiful. Rotating  
colored spotlights were intermittently dancing over his pale skin, painting him like a work of art.  
There was something scorching hot about the knowledge that Ian had just swallowed him down.  
Mickey possessed him, inhabited him, a connection that other men in the room would die to have  
with Ian, but nobody but Mickey did.

Ian caught sight of his boyfriend's heavy stare and gave him a deathly mischievous smirk. Green  
eyes locked into blue had Mickey uncomfortably adjusting his pants. Fuck.

Chapter Two: To Myself

Mickey was rolling his hips at a painstakingly slow pace making sure that Ian could feel every  
inch of his dick moving in and out of Mickey's tight ass. He used his strong thigh muscles to  
balance as he leaned forward so all that was left inside him was the tip of Ian's cock before arching  
back again to become fully seated, over and over, driving the man below him absolutely crazy.

"Fuuuck, get it baby," Ian groaned sounding completely shattered. His head kept involuntarily  
falling to the pillow, eyes closed in ecstasy. Each time he was forced to succumb to the  
ravishment, he would will himself to pull up again, leaning back on his elbows so he could watch  
his sexy ass boyfriend ride his cock, "Shit you look so good, Mick."

Mickey didn't respond, instead he bit his lower lip while a small smirk played on the corner of his  
mouth. He kept up the languid pace, which was positively destroying Ian.

"I'm so fucking close," Ian sputtered, head collapsing back again. "Cum with me... Please."

Mickey dropped his hand down to his hard, dripping cock and started to slowly stroke himself. He  
could feel Ian twitching against the final resistance before orgasm when he heard an unwelcome  
voice.

"Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me," Iggy cried shielding his eyes and pulling a face that was  
somewhere between complete disgust and mortification.

"You ever hear of fucking KNOCKING?!" Mickey shouted after he had jumped off Ian and  
wrapped his waist in his navy blue sheets.

"Told you motherfuckers last night that my shower was on the fritz and I'd need to use this one.  
Thought you could keep your fucking ass off his dick for long enough not to ruin my damn life."

"I mean, that's pretty dramatic," Ian stated looking from one Milkovich brother to the other. They  
were both varied shades of crimson and doing everything possible to avoid looking at each other.

Iggy flicked his finger up at Ian, the only gesture he could think of that didn't involve turning in  
his direction.

"Fuck, I forgot," Mickey sighed rubbing his palm over his forehead, down his cheek and then  
back up to his forehead again as if he was trying to erradicate the memory of Iggy's face.

Iggy just huffed in annoyance and made his way into the bathroom, slamming the door behind  
him.

"Gotta finish," Ian cooed trying to pull Mickey back onto him.

"The fuck, Gallagher," Mickey hissed pushing Ian's hands off of him and giving Ian the dirty look  
to end all other dirty looks. "I gotta get outta here," He said shaking his head and pulling his  
boxers on, much to Ian's chagrin.

"Right now?" Ian cried, "We're seriously not gonna finish?"

Mickey froze in space for a moment, narrowing his eyes at Ian like he was a foreign species. He  
used his right hand to gesture towards the bathroom door and then swiftly smack Ian upside his  
head.

"Fuck, fine," Ian groused reaching for his clothes, "Where are we going?"

"Huh?"

"You said we gotta get outta here. Where do you wanna go?" Ian asked pulling on his hoodie. He  
could definitely go for some pancakes.

"I said 'I gotta get outta here' like, not live here anymore. Sick of living with people. No fucking  
privacy in prison, no fucking privacy here," Mickey stated eyebrows agitated.

"Oh," Ian said softly, the room all of a sudden heavy with silence. He thought things had been  
going well between them. Ian rarely stayed over at Lip's anymore. He'd drop in here and there to  
grab clothes and some other shit he needed, but spent most of his nights with Mickey, wrapped  
around him in the familiar full sized bed. He never considered that maybe it was too much too  
soon, and he had overstayed his welcome. "So, do you, uh, have any money to get a place?"

"Got some stashed away that I was gonna use on something else," Mickey responded, a tormented  
look on his face.

"What were you gonna spend it on?" Ian questioned carefully.

"Ain't important," Mickey replied briskly, biting his lower lip.

Ian was being shut out. He could feel it. Ten minutes ago they were connected both physically  
and emotionally and now Mickey was ice cold, pulling away.

He saw this shit before, but was sure they were past it. Things hadn't been like this for over a  
decade. Maybe Ian was too optimistic in thinking they could fully revert back to only the best  
parts of their prior relationship.

Mickey was still hurt from all Ian put him through and Ian didn't fucking blame him, but he didn't  
want him to build his walls up again. They had spent so many years knocking them down. Ian  
knew it was Mickey's way of protecting himself, but he couldn't help but feel devastated by the  
fact that Mickey found it necessary to protect himself from Ian. He knew why, but it didn't make it  
hurt any less or make him feel any less guilty.

"Gotta do it though. Gotta get outta here." Mickey repeated, as if he was talking himself into the  
decision, sacrificing whatever he had wanted to use the money for in favor of privacy. "How the  
fuck do people find apartments and shit?" He asked entirely confused by the concept.  
Ian shrugged, "Uh, not really sure. Sometimes I see signs outside of places with phone numbers,"  
he paused, "And Lip lives in an apartment, so I could ask him."

"Don't wanna live near that asshole," Mickey warned.

Ian nodded, "Yeah, I know. I could just, you know, ask him or whatever."

"Yeah that's good," Mickey agreed, his blue eyes looking overwhelmed, "Feels like a big thing,  
getting an apartment. Always dreamed about fucking off from this place. Not that prison was any  
better," he thought about his statement for a moment and added, "or worse I guess. But living  
somewhere else, never really seemed possible."

"It will be cool," Ian responded tentatively, knowing he had to be supportive. It was the right thing  
to do. He'd probably stay over at Mickey's place often, but Mickey had clearly said he was sick of  
living with people. He needed space, and as much as Ian didn't want to, he had to give it to him.

Mickey nodded. The shower had turned off and Iggy emerged from the bathroom shroud in  
towels, eyes averted from the bed as he made his way quickly to the door.

"I'm movin out," Mickey stated as Iggy rushed out of the room.

"Good," Iggy called back, wondering if bleaching his eyes would rid him of the memory of his  
little brother riding his asshole ex-boyfriend/current boyfriend or whatever the fuck the piece of  
shit was to Mickey now.

Chapter Three: Cursed

"Can I borrow this?" Ian asked holding up Mickey's ancient iPod that was laying on the dresser.

"Sure," Mickey said buttoning up his black collared shirt. He had been bussing more often than  
dishwashing recently. He was hoping Luca would consider promoting him to waiter, not that he  
really wanted to wait on people, but it was a pay raise and he could use the money. "Gonna  
practice your moves or something?"

Ian rolled his eyes, moody, "Don't need practice." He pushed the ear buds into his ears.

"Not taking the El?" Mickey questioned incredulously watching as Ian scrolled through his music.  
If he was looking for anything current, it wasn't on there. He hadn't uploaded new shit since  
before he was locked up, "I'm goin' North. Figured we'd at least walk over there together."

Ian just shook his head, not looking up, "Nah, it's outta my way. Not gonna take the El today.  
Gonna walk."

"Ok," Mickey said carefully, eyebrows raised as he studied the redhead who was pulling on his  
coat, beanie and scarf. "Pissy you didn't get to blow your load, Princess?"

Ian scoffed and shot Mickey an annoyed look before shoving the iPod into his coat pocket.  
Mickey could hear muffled music coming from the headphones. Guess they were done talking.

"Bitch," Mickey muttered seeing if Ian could hear him. He couldn't. He walked closer to Ian who  
was collecting his phone, wallet and keys. "I'll call you later, ok? You're off right?"

Ian just looked at him annoyed and took out one of the buds, "What?"

"You're off tonight, right?" Mickey repeated trying to keep his patience. He hated when Ian got  
into these salty moods. He had almost forgotten what a high maintenance asshole his boyfriend  
could be. The last month had been easy, he should've known that shit wouldn't last. What was that  
called? The honeymoon phase? Yeah, well evidently it was short lived.

"Right," Ian confirmed, he went to put the earbud back in but Mickey grabbed his wrist before he  
could.

"Fuck's your problem, Ian?" Mickey questioned, feeling his aggravation building. Between Iggy's  
shit this morning and now Ian's, his day was off to a crappy start.

Ian mumbled the obligatory 'nothing' and Mickey decided that he didn't want to fucking deal with  
the redhead's bullshit. He wasn't going to push. If something was wrong, Ian could man up and  
tell him what it was.

"Fine," he acquiesced biting his lip, "I'll call you later. Give me a kiss."

Ian leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against Mickey's lips. "Later," he said turning to head  
out of the Milkovich house.

Ian knew he didn't really have a right to be hurt or upset but he couldn't help it. The fact that  
Mickey didn't want to live with him, wanted space... that was on Ian, he knew that, but it didn't  
make it any easier to deal with.

Hadn't they had enough space? They had lost almost a decade being too far apart. He couldn't get  
close enough to boyfriend. Ian would live inside of Mickey if he could, inhabit him, possess him;  
make his own breaths into Mickey's pulse. He knew he was obsessed with the other man, and that  
it probably wasn't healthy, but he couldn't help it; he just loved him so fucking much.

Maybe he should call Cammie from Synergy. She gave him her number on the sly and told him to  
contact her if he ever needed to talk. He didn't think she did that for other patients, so she would  
most likely be receptive if he did reach out.

He didn't feel like he was hitting a low, and he certainly wasn't on a high. He felt steady in that  
regard, but he was just feeling too much. He knew it was probably a good thing considering the  
medication he was on before Synergy had numbed everything, but it didn't feel good; it felt scary  
and overwhelming.

He pushed his hands into his jacket pocket letting the old, combative rap song bumping in his ears  
rile up his emotions. With each step he took, his hurt and upset was ebbing and giving way to  
anger; feet clomping heavy on the pavement, jaw clenching, blood boiling anger.

Seriously, fuck that asshole. For the last month, things had been better than they ever were before.  
Mickey had seemed so happy to be with him, looking at Ian like he hung the moon. He was  
affectionate in public and even sweeter in private. He showed up to the club every night that he  
could and wanted Ian in his bed nightly, too.

It was probably because Ian had been putting out like a slut, sucking him off or fucking him any  
chance he got. People put up with a lot when they're getting screwed like that, maybe Mickey had  
finally gotten his fill and was going to pull back now. He didn't even want to fucking finish this  
morning. Iggy walked in, but still, he left after that and Mickey just went in to take a shower and  
started getting ready for work.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" A man yelled after Ian had knocked his shoulder into him in  
passing. Ian couldn't hear what the guy said, but saw on his face that he was angry, so he  
proceeded to flip him off and kept stomping down the street. Fuck that asshole, too.

And Ian told Mickey all the time how much he loved him. He literally confessed his love to him  
like five times a day and Mickey never said it back. He hadn't told Ian he loved him since their  
breakup. Why did Ian think things were going well when they so clearly weren't? He was tricking  
himself. Had he told Jake he loved HIM? He probably did. He remembered the way they were  
making out in the club right in front of Ian. They looked like they were in love. Maybe this was all  
karma, some kind of punishment for the way he had treated Mickey, Theo, every other guy he's  
ever fucking been with. It was his turn to hurt. That had to be it. Mission accomplished, karma, he  
was hurting.

Ian pulled open the door of Lip's apartment building and ran up the six flights of stairs to his  
brother's unit. He could've taken the elevator but he had too much energy to burn off. Maybe he'd  
call Marty and see if he could pick up a shift that night. If he had to sit home on Lip's couch he  
would lose it. No way he was going to go over to Mickey's, no fucking way. He would call  
Marty.

He opened up Lip's door and saw his brother sitting on the couch, with some girl he didn't  
recognize. Probably a new relationship for his brother to fuck up. They were Gallaghers, it's what  
they did. Ian idly wondered who was the worst among them.

"Hi to you too," Lip said as Ian started banging drawers and cabinets in the kitchen. No response.

Lip could hear the driving beat of Ian's music, "my brother," he said to the pretty brunette sitting to  
his left, "I would say he's not usually a prick, but I'd be lying."

She laughed uncomfortably, her eyes fixed on the sweaty, raging man in the kitchen.

"Did you eat my fucking oreos?" Ian growled ripping his headphones off and beginning to  
remove his outerwear, throwing it onto the floor when he was done and then kicking it into the  
living room.

"Um, no," Lip responded and decided to needle him a bit, "they were too stale, you bought them  
when you actually lived here."

"I still fucking live here," Ian snapped. He gathered himself for a moment to say to the girl in a  
kinder tone, "I'm Ian."

"Grace," She responded with a small nervous smile.

He gave her a slight wave and went back to searching for his cookies. When he finally found  
them right where he had left them, he shoved two into his mouth and realized immediately that it  
was mistake because they were too hard to chew. He leaned over the trash, mouth open, tongue  
out and let them fall into the can much to Grace's disgust. Her blue eyes grew even wider as he  
spit out the remaining crumbs.

"Told you. You fighting with your douchebag?" Lip prodded.

"Pretty sure we're breaking up," Ian responded grabbing a carton of orange juice from the fridge  
and chugging it.

"Some things never change," Lip responded. He turned to Grace, "they've been on and off since  
they were like 14. Off for a long time while the asshole was in prison."

"Oh," was all Grace could muster to reply, until she got her bearings. She followed up with "This  
is his boyfriend?"

"Yeah." He watched his brother throw himself down on the gross brown plaid chair he had  
picked up from Salvation Army a few years ago. "What happened?"

"Iggy walked in on us, and Mick lost it, decided he was going to move out."

"So? Everyone's walked in on you guys at some point." Lip said, not sure what the issue was.

"He's moving out. Without me. Made it clear he needs space, privacy." Ian responded, feeling his  
anger begin to wane and shift back to sadness again, "I don't want space. I want to be with him all  
the time. I fucking miss him as soon we're apart."

"That's really sweet," Grace said softly, recognizing the hurt on Ian's face.

"Nothing about them is sweet," Lip assured her, earning a scoff and a look of disdain from Grace.

She was clearly moving over to Team Ian.

"Maybe he just needs time," she suggested, "and he'll want you to move in with him in a few  
months or something."

Ian considered her point for a moment, "I dunno. He's kinda stubborn sometimes."

"How did you guys leave it?" She asked, sitting forward, becoming more engaged in the  
conversation. Lip walked over to the kitchen table and lit up the small bowl of weed that was  
sitting on it. He needed to be high to pretend to give a shit about Ian and Mickey drama.

"He asked me for a kiss and said he would call me tonight," Ian responded, fidgeting with his  
hands nervously.

"That's a good sign," Grace exclaimed.

"Maybe," Ian relented, "Either way, I'm going to pick up a shift tonight. If he wants space I'll give  
him space."

"Yeah, don't make yourself too available," Grace agreed tucking her bobbed hair behind her ears.

"That's how you play it, huh?" Lip called over to her. She just grinned back at him in response.

Ian nodded his agreement. "I'm gonna pull back."

Chapter Four: Stolen Dance

"Fuck, Ian, pick up," Mickey pleaded anxiously into the phone receiver, lighting his tenth  
cigarette of the morning.

-Hey, you've reached Ian. Leave a message-

"Ian, this is like the 200th message I've left you. I'm fucking worried. Call me back. Please. I don't  
wanna..." he paused, "just call me back, ok?" Mickey ended the call and threw his phone down  
onto the coffee table, exasperated. He took a long drag of his cigarette, laid his head back on the  
couch, exhaled and watched the smoke billow around him.

He felt like he was in a fog. He had laid in his bed last night staring at the unoccupied pillow next  
to him wondering where the fuck his boyfriend was, worried that something had happened to him;  
maybe he was laying on Lip's couch unable to move because he fell into a paralyzing depression,  
or maybe he was somewhere getting high, fucking another guy. He felt too sick to sleep. Every  
creak of the house settling or stir outside had him jolting up in bed thinking Ian would be walking  
into his bedroom ready for Mickey to wrap him up in his arms and kiss him to sleep, but he never  
came.

Around 4am Mickey had considered throwing on his coat and braving the bitter cold to try to find  
him, but he didn't even know where to start. He had a general idea what building Lip lived in, but  
that was about it. He didn't have any of the Gallaghers' phone numbers, but he knew he could get  
them if he needed to through Svetlana. He was supposed to meet her and Yevgeny at the diner  
later that morning. Maybe he'd ask her then. The idea of admitting to her that he was back with  
Ian and the guy had already gone fucking Houdini on him was embarrassing as hell, but he was  
terrified that something was wrong with the asshole.

Theoretically Mickey knew this time would come. It always did. Ian disappeared, it's what he did,  
he just hadn't mentally prepared himself for it. Things had been so well and Mickey had tricked  
himself into thinking they'd stay that way.

Now, it was noon and he was already a half hour late for the lunch. Svet was gonna rip his balls  
off.

He sighed as he pulled on his outerwear. He didn't feel like going, but he had to. He wasn't sure if  
Yevgeny was even into these bi-monthly lunches, but he wasn't going to let the kid down and not  
show. He made sure his ringer was turned up to full volume before putting his phone in his pocket  
and heading out.

It was grey and dismal outside. Large flakes of snow were falling from the slate sky, tickling  
Mickey's face as they landed lightly on him. Occasionally there would be a brutal gust of wind  
that would slap at Mickey's skin, forcing him to pull his scarf up around his mouth and silently  
pray that Ian wasn't strung out in an alley somewhere.

"You're late," Svetlana chided, as soon as Mickey slid into the booth.

"I know, I'm sorry," he said looking into Yev's blue eyes, "lotta shit going on."

"We ordered 10 minutes ago. Did not order for you cause we thought you were not going to  
show." Svetlana stated not looking up from her cell phone.

"I'll always fucking show," Mickey practically growled at Svetlana. Truth was that he never really  
wanted to meet for these lunches, but he did it anyway. Svetlana irritated him to no end and he still  
felt uncomfortable around Yevgeny, but shit, that wasn't the kid's fault. Mickey was the one that  
got himself locked up and practically made them strangers who only saw each other through  
plexiglass a few times a year.

"I thought you would," Yev said matter-of-factly, "Told Mom but she didn't believe me.  
Mickey grinned a little as he unwrapped his scarf and shrugged off his jacket, "See, the kid takes  
after me. Smart."

Yev smiled shyly at the compliment looking down at the jelly packets he was stacking.

"Why are you late? Doing heiney heimlich with orange asshole?" Svetlana questioned staring into  
Mickey's eyes pointedly. "I hear through grape vine you are back with him. This did not take  
long."

"Who's orange asshole? What's the heiney heimlich?" Yev asked innocently.

Mickey cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh..." he turned to Svetlana and grimaced  
"Shit, Svet."

"He is not baby anymore," Svetlana said gesturing towards Yevgeny expectantly.

Fuck it. He had nothing to hide. "She's talking about Ian. He's my... boyfriend."

"Oh," Yev said plainly. "So, you're gay?"

"Yeah," Mickey responded tentatively trying to read the boy's expression. He  
looked...disinterested.

"Thought gay guys were kinda girly. You're not girly. Is he?" Yev questioned, peeling open one  
of the jelly packets and scooping the contents out with his finger. He brought it to his mouth and  
noisily licked, earning him a nudge of disapproval from his mother.

"He ain't girly. Not all gay guys are like that. Some are, but a lot aren't," Mickey bit his lip and  
averted his eyes down to the menu in front of him.

Yev nodded. "Ok. What's the heiney heimlich? That a gay thing?"

"That's a thing your mother never should of fuckin' said," Mickey snapped glaring at Svetlana  
who shrugged innocently.

"It is sex, Yevvy," She responded, smoothing her son's dark hair.

"He's 9," Mickey admonished shaking his head in disbelief.

"I was already working at 11," Svetlana responded.

Mickey didn't have any words left so he just rubbed the back of his neck nervously and glanced  
around the room for someone to take his order.

He wasn't gonna ask for the Gallaghers' numbers, not yet. Ian was supposed to be working that  
later. Mickey would go over there and make sure he showed. If he didn't Mickey would go into  
panic mode. For now, he'd order lunch.

*

Mickey showed up at the White Swallow a little after 9pm and immediately walked over to the bar  
that Tim was tending.

"Jack and Orange, Mickey?" The bartender asked as he wiped down the dark mahogany bar top.

"Uh, maybe later. You see Ian?" Mickey asked his eyes darting nervously around he room, teeth  
gnawing hard into his cheek.

"He's in the lounge tonight," Tim replied gesturing towards the section full of couches and low  
tables.

Mickey nodded and plowed towards the lounge, knocking into a few guys in the process, "watch  
it faggot," he growled, shoving an older guy that got into his path.

"What's his problem?" The guy exclaimed to his friends.

Mickey saw Ian grinding on some twink's lap. The guy was good looking if you liked that type;  
blond faux hawk, too skinny, dumb tattoos, fake tan. "Time's up" Mickey said kicking the guy's  
foot and drawing a yelp of disapproval from him. He pushed Ian back by his hips so he could exit  
the area as quickly as possible.

"What the fuck Mickey!" Ian cried, "I'm working."

"Yeah, I see that," Mickey spat feeling his anger rising. He was glad Ian was ok, but why the fuck  
hadn't he answered his phone. It would have been easier to understand if something had been  
wrong with him. He sat down on the couch leaned back, and adjusted his pants. "Get back to  
work."

Ian looked around hesitantly, worried that Marty would get on his ass if he found him giving  
Mickey a lap dance. Boyfriends weren't necessarily welcomed with open arms by his boss.

"Fuck, Gallagher, C'mon," Mickey demanded.

Ian turned around and slid his ass against Mickey's crotch, surprised when the brunet grabbed his  
waist hard and pulled him down onto him so that his back was flank against Mickey's chest.

"You didn't come by last night," Mickey said directly into Ian's ear as the redhead continued to  
slide up and down on him, rolling his hips to the music. Ian didn't respond. Mickey caught  
glimpses of Ian's profile as his dipped and moved with the music. His jaw was clenched, chin  
jutting, his pissed off face. "Turn around."

Ian kept dancing but didn't oblige. "You pissed at me?" Mickey asked involuntarily rubbing his  
hands on Ian's hips and into his inner thighs. He heard Ian's breath hitch.

"You getting paid for that dance, Red?" Marty barked clearing a few empty glasses off the low  
table in front of them. Mickey took his hands off of Ian and shimmied a little so that he could pull  
his wallet out. He peeled out a 20 and immediately shoved it straight down the front of Ian's little  
red shorts, eyebrows raised in challenge of his boyfriend's boss. For added effect he grabbed onto  
Ian's cock and gave it a good tug, earning a muffled groan from the redhead.

"Don't touch my dancers," Marty warned, "or I'll kick your ass out." He gave Ian a look of  
caution before exiting the lounge.

"What the fuck, Mick?" Ian snapped jumping off of his lap and glaring down at him, "you're  
gonna get me fired."

"He talks!" Mickey declared throwing his arms up, "the fuck's your problem, Firecrotch? I've  
been calling you for 24 hours straight. Had me fucking freaking."

"Nothing," Ian mumbled, adjusting the hard on he was sporting, obvious in those ridiculously  
short and thin shorts.

"Bullshit," Mickey said shaking his head. He got distracted by the vision in front of him. "Those  
things are practically see through. What happened to the black ones?"

"Gotta wear these for the next week for Valentine's Day or some shit." Ian responded straddling  
Mickey, this time facing forward.

"They're too fuckin' small on you. I can see your cock right through 'em," Mickey stated licking  
his lips as he looked down at his boyfriend's huge bulge. He was really trying to remember why  
he was pissed at the asshole. "Should tell that bastard that you're gonna wear the black ones  
instead or something."

"I don't think I really have room to make demands right now," Ian said beginning to roll his hips  
to the beat. Automatic. "I'll be lucky if I have a job after tonight."

"Being fucking dramatic," Mickey said, voice low as he admired the outline of Ian in those shorts.  
Shit. Like a moth to the flame he wrapped his hands around his boyfriend's girth over the cotton.

"Fuck."

"Came here to get fucked, huh?" Ian snipped staring down at Mickey his green eyes so big and  
hurt.

"No prick. I came here to check on your ass. Thought you'd be over last night and when you  
weren't and didn't fucking answer your phone, got me thinking some fucked up shit..." Mickey bit  
his lip and rested his hands on Ian's hips, "was fucking worried about you, Ian."

"Was just giving you the space you need," Ian replied softly, looking away from Mickey. The  
brunet could see the tears begin to gather along Ian's water line.

"Hey," Mickey said gently. He reached up to angle Ian's chin down so he was looking directly in  
those emerald eyes, "What are you talkin' about?"

"Dance is over, lovebirds," Marty said loudly, seeming to appear out of thin air.

Mickey sighed as Ian climbed off of him. "I'm gonna stay. Can we talk after your shift? Tell me  
what the fuck's going on?"

Ian nodded with a sniff, steeled himself quickly, and moved onto the next lap.

Chapter Five: Latch

Mickey hated it when Ian worked the lounge. He typically didn't even show up when he knew Ian  
had a lounge shift. When Ian was on the main floor he was untouchable, unattainable, a fantasy,  
but when he worked the lounge he was tangible, available, flesh. Ian belonged on a pedestal, not  
on some random guys' laps.

He watched as Ian gave yet another lap dance. The same routine; sultry smile that never reached  
his eyes, sexy whispers in the patrons' ears, touches that lingered a little longer than necessary.  
Mickey took a swig of his drink and checked his phone. 10 more minutes. He slid Tim a few bills,  
nodded his goodbye and headed outside to smoke. He noticed his gloved hand shaking as he  
tapped the cigarette out of its carton. He wasn't sure if it was the cold or his nerves. What was up  
with Ian? He racked his brain to figure out what he could've done that pissed his boyfriend off so  
badly, but couldn't come up with an answer. Ian just looked so sad. He fucking hated seeing him  
like that. The gayest shit invaded his mind and he immediately tried to shake it away, afraid if he  
let it remain there, he'd actually say it aloud.

He made his way to the back door where Ian would be exiting and leaned against the freezing  
brick wall to wait for him. He wanted Ian to wrap him up in his arms, warm his body, kiss his lips,  
tell him he loved him. He felt too far away, he wanted him close. He needed to feel him, be safe  
with him, really gay needy shit. He shook his head in reproach.

"Hey," Ian said quietly pulling Mickey out of his thoughts. He reached over to take the cigarette  
out of Mickey's hand so he could take a drag.

"Hey," Mickey responded lighting up another one and gesturing for Ian to keep the cigarette  
between his gloved fingers. "Where we going?"

Ian shrugged. "It's either Lip's couch or your place I guess. So, your place."

Mickey nodded and they began walking towards the El in silence. Mickey cleared his throat

"Missed you last night," he said uncertainly, unsure of what the quiet man's reaction would be.

"You did?" Ian asked surprised.

"Course I did. Couldn't fucking sleep. I was cold and was worried about you," he admitted  
glancing up at Ian with nervous eyes. He turned away when his blue eyes were caught by green.

"Sorry you were worried," Ian acknowledged softly dropping his cigarette onto the train landing  
and stepping on it with his boot.

Mickey nodded, "Could've at least picked up your phone. Told me you were ok or some shit. Had  
me all fucked up."

"I'm sorry. I was just, you know, giving you space or whatever," Ian responded.

"The fuck kinda space?" Mickey asked confused following Ian onto the El. He sat down next to  
his boyfriend and repeated the question, "The fuck kinda space, Ian?" The redhead was staring  
out the window pensively. The train was moving, his eyes were filling, and he wasn't sure which  
one was causing the city lights to blur so magnificently.

"Fuck," Mickey sighed when he saw a tear fall down Ian's cheek. Ian quickly wiped it away and  
sniffed. Mickey surveyed the car to see who was around, deciding that the homeless dude and  
wasted frat guys weren't anyone to be concerned about.

He reached over and raised his gloved hand to Ian's cheek, gently turning him so they were face to  
face. Another tear was falling and before Ian could get rid of it Mickey leaned forward gently  
pressing his lips against it so he could taste the salt of Ian's sadness. "We can wait til we're off the  
train," Mickey whispered, looking straight into Ian's eyes, "but you're gonna tell me what the hell  
you're talking about."

Ian nodded and turned his head back around so he could continue looking out the window.

Mickey pulled Ian's hand into his and held it that way until they were removing their outerwear in  
Mickey's bedroom 20 minutes later.

Ian sat down on the edge of bed and Mickey sat next to him, worried. Was this fucker going to  
break up with him again? He was being so damn weird.

"So..." Mickey led, "Spit it the fuck out, man."

"When you said 'I gotta get outta here' yesterday morning, and I asked you where we were going  
you said it was just you. That you needed privacy or some shit, sick of living with people.

Thought you wanted me around, I dunno." Ian was avoiding eye contact, instead focusing on his  
hands that were resting in his lap, occasionally wringing each other. "Guess I thought things were  
going better than that. Hate the idea of being away from you." He sniffed, "thought you felt the  
same. Thought you, you know, wanted me around or whatever."

"Course I do," Mickey confirmed, flabbergasted by Ian's concerns, "You're not fucking people,  
Ian. Iggy, Selena, those are people. You're not."

Ian looked up at him confused.

"I don't need privacy from you. You don't count. When you said 'where are we going', thought  
you meant breakfast or something with your dumb fucking appetite."

"I think I kinda did," Ian admitted laughing wetly and sniffing in hard.

"Fuck you're gross. Quit crying, snot nose," Mickey laughed ruffling his boyfriend's hair. "So you  
thought I wanted to get away from you?"

Ian nodded, "Yeah."

"Yeah, you're not getting rid of me that easy. Thought you were gonna help me look for the  
apartment or whatever. Figured you'd be living there too."

Ian's eyes were wide with astonishment, "You what?"

"Ain't gonna say it again," Mickey stated biting his bottom lip anxiously, "You're making shit  
fucking weird."

"You want to live together?" Ian questioned feeling his heart beginning to race.

"It's really not that big of a deal, Gallagher, we pretty much already are. You're acting like I just  
asked you to have my fucking children," Mickey scoffed getting annoyed by the dense asshole  
that was now pressing his lips hard against Mickey's. His annoyance began to wane as Ian pushed  
him back onto the bed, lips still connected, tongues intertwining passionately. Ian was laying  
heavy on him, his fingers dancing through Mickey's hair eagerly trying to get more of him.  
Mickey could feel Ian's heart thumping against his; trying to synch, compelling Mickey's to race at  
the same pace Ian's was.

"We're gonna have our own place, Mick. Just you and me." Ian breathed into his boyfriend's  
mouth. Excited energy was coursing through his body making him feel like he could crawl out of  
his skin and into Mickey's. "Need to be inside you."

"Get inside me then," Mickey whispered salaciously.

They wasted no time stripping off their clothes. Mickey laid back on the bed, head resting on the  
pillow that had laid lonely the night before and sighed as Ian's wet finger pushed past his tight ring  
of muscles. "Missed you" he breathed as Ian pushed in a second finger, "Was so worried about  
you."

"Shhh," Ian leaned in to kiss Mickey opening him in every way possible, tongue sliding through  
lips. He dipped in a third finger and Mickey threw his head mouth pulling off of Ian's so it could  
form a perfect 'O', overwhelmed by the sensation. "I love you," Ian assured him, removing his  
fingers so he could push his ready cock into Mickey's warm, tight hole. "Fuck, you feel so good  
wrapped around my cock, Mick."

Mickey groaned at the words and the way that Ian had bottomed out and stretched him so  
perfectly.

"Gonna fill you up with my cum, baby," Ian stated hotly rocking into his boyfriend's ass, making  
sure to probe further with every thrust.

Mickey was coming undone under Ian, moaning unabashedly as Ian lodged himself in deeper than  
Mickey thought was physically possible.

Ian was barely thrusting, just pushing, pulsing, so much pressure. Mickey never felt so full.

"Give it to me..." Mickey groaned. "Please." He needed to feel Ian like this; absorbed by his body,  
pushed into his core, emptying deep inside him. When Ian came, the warmth spread throughout  
Mickey in a rush. He shuddered from the sensation of Ian being alive inside of him, bringing him  
to life again. He didn't want to spend another night away from him. He whispered into Ian's skin,

"Don't leave me again."

Chapter Six: Hunger

"Again..." Mickey asked with a sleepy grin as Ian's fingers dipped inside his still stretched hole.  
Mickey was turned on his side facing away from his boyfriend who was lavishing kisses on his  
bare shoulder as he fingered him.

"I'm excited for today. Got lots of happy energy I gotta burn off," Ian said rutting his hard on  
against Mickey's ass.

"You've been burning it off all night," Mickey reminded him with a yawn.

"You complaining?" Ian asked teasingly as he flipped Mickey over so he could climb on top of  
him.

"Not at all," Mickey smirked up at the beautiful man balancing on his lap. "My ass may be later  
though. You're wearing it out."

"Love fucking you so much," Ian replied leaning over to plant open mouth kisses along Mickey's  
collarbone. "Got that perfect ass," Ian practically growled reaching around and taking two big  
handfuls of Mickey's bubble butt. "Made for me."

"That right, Gallagher?" Mickey questioned, mockingly raising his eyebrows.

"Mmmhmm" Ian nodded flipping Mickey onto his stomach roughly. Mickey laughed as Ian  
motorboated his his ass and reasserted, "mine."

"Yours, huh?" Mickey teased pulling himself up onto his hands and knees so Ian had better  
access. "Make it quick, we gotta be there in an hour."

Ian warmed up Mickey's cheek with his palm before landing a hard smack on the pale white  
mound watching as the skin immediately turned an angry shade of red, "Tell me it's mine."

Mickey rolled his eyes and let his head fall between his shoulders. "You get so fucking weird  
sometimes." Mickey said lightly. He began to roll his hips back towards Ian, eager to be filled.  
Ian gave him another hard smack and then shoved his cock hard into Mickey, drawing a broken  
groan from his boyfriend's mouth.

"Tell me, Mick," he prompted again as he pounded into the brunet.

And just like that Mickey was panting, moaning and chanting "fuck, it's yours, it's yours" over  
and over until they were both laying spent in a breathless heap.

They lost track of time having laid in recovery too long and had to skip a shower, throw on some  
clothes and rush to the apartment building on Spaulding smelling like sex.

*

"Look alright?" The landlord, Mac, asked gruffly as they walked around the tiny one bedroom  
apartment.

"All the plumbing and electrical work?" Mickey asked tapping a loose baseboard with the tip of  
his boot.

"Pipes rattle when you run the shower and sink at the same time, but we ain't had any other  
problems," He stated plainly glancing down at his cell phone. "You need more time, or you  
wanna go sign the papers?" The tour was clearly over.

"Do you wanna look at the two bedroom, Mick? In case, you know, Yevgeny ever wants to stay  
over?" Ian asked peeking out the barred window, disappointed to find the only view was of a  
brick wall.

"Kid ain't gonna want to stay over," Mickey responded giving Ian a skeptical look.  
Ian shrugged. He'd been trying to talk to Mickey about Yevgeny a lot recently. He wanted to  
know more about Mickey's relationship with his son, but Mickey wasn't exactly forthcoming  
about the topic. He knew he had to keep chipping away at Mickey. Ian wanted to be with him and  
he knew that in some capacity, Yevgeny would be a part of the equation, too.  
He hadn't seen Yev in years. Time had passed, things had changed, and Ian hadn't stayed in the  
kid's life. He had always had regrets about how the years had gotten away from him, but he felt  
them now more than ever. He was back with Mickey, building a life together and he was forced to  
face the fact that he and Mickey weren't the only casualties of their formally broken relationship.

"$700 a month, all utilities included except for electric, you're in charge of that," Mac reminded  
them.

"What d'you think?" Mickey asked Ian expectantly. "Not bad, right?"

Ian could recognize that light in Mickey's blue eyes, the excitement. All of his dreams of freedom,  
space, and something to call his own, were materializing right in front of him in the form of a  
shitty, rundown apartment.

Ian ruminated on how different his life was not even a year ago. He would have easily dropped  
$700 on a new jacket or pair of shoes. Now, here he was wondering if he could consistently  
throw half of that towards the rent every month. He made ok money at the club, but every night  
was variable.

Mickey was good with numbers and assured Ian that it would be alright as long as they both kept  
working the hours they had been. It was strange to be worrying about money again; to work for it  
and then give it away to bills.

He scolded his mind for betraying him and thinking wistfully about how easy aspects of his life  
were with Theo. He missed 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, weeknight dinners at five  
star restaurants, laundry service and his car. He really missed that fucking car.  
Being in the Milkovich house or Lip's apartment, both felt temporary, but this, this apartment was  
real; His tangible new reality. He found himself thinking of Jimmy Lishman and all of the  
struggles he had acclimating to life on the South Side. He was playing house with Fiona, but in  
the end his entitlement was stronger than his love.

Ian was different than that, right? He knew he had everything that mattered to him in this little  
shithole of an apartment, because Mickey was there and that was enough, luxurious lifestyle be  
damned. But fuck if it wasn't a tough transition. "No it's great," Ian lied, "Let's do it." He grinned  
at his boyfriend who was giving him one of those rare toothy smiles he loved so much.

"We'll take it," Mickey said shaking Mac's meaty, calloused hand.

*

"You happy?" Ian asked as Mickey wrapped his arms loosely around the redhead's waist from  
behind and tickled his taut belly gently. He already knew the answer.

"Really fucking happy," Mickey confirmed walking like a penguin behind Ian so he could keep  
his arms around him and still meet his boyfriend pace. He tickled the spot between his third and  
fourth rib that always got Ian to double over in laugher, and the redhead didn't disappoint. "Good,  
a real fucking smile," Mickey said letting go of Ian's waist so he could walk beside him.

"What do you mean?" Ian questioned pushing the hair that had fallen into his face from the  
laughing fit back.

"Know it's not what you got used to or whatever," Mickey cleared his throat, "Wish we could do  
more..."

"The fuck, Milkovich! You forget I'm as South Side as your plump ass," Ian scoffed giving  
Mickey a playful shove.

"Think you're still South Side, huh?" Mickey asked with a laugh, his mood jovial once again.

"Let's see how fast you can run. First one to this house gets head."

"You're on," Ian said an excited gleam in his eyes, "can't wait to get my dick sucked."

Mickey rolled his eyes, "You fucking wish, bitch. Be careful of ice patches, ain't nobody rolled  
out the red carpet for your prissy ass."

"That right?" Ian challenged, "you're talking a lot of shit right now, Mick, you gonna back it up.  
Your legs are a lot shorter than mine."

"Shorter but stronger motherfucker," Mickey reminded him. "1...2...3" and they were off running  
down that familiar South Side street towards a house they hoped to never live in again.

*

Mickey scooped all of the clothes in his drawer up into his arms and unceremoniously dumped  
them into the large black trash bag. He tied it off and carried it into the living room, throwing it  
down with the rest of his bags. He went into the kitchen, grabbed a beer and then crashed down  
onto a chair in the living room.

"You're seriously packing in trash bags?" Selena questioned, annoying voice full of judgement.  
She was cuddled up on Iggy while he was playing Madden. Selena was nice enough but Mickey  
couldn't fucking wait to be away from her.

"So?" Mickey dared giving her his best 'what the fuck face' and then taking a swig of his beer.

"Where's the shithead?" Iggy asked immediately receiving a hard elbow in the ribs from his  
girlfriend, "Shit, babe. That hurt."

She shrugged and grabbed the controller out of his hand, taking over his game.

"Went out to get more trash bags," Mickey responded nonplussed by Iggy's name calling.

"You think it's really a good idea to shack up with him, Mick? He's so fucking flighty, man. Just  
worried that he's gonna pull that same shit again," Iggy admitted. "You've come so far with the  
job and all. Just don't wanna see that asshole fuck it all up for you."

"Did I just walk into a fucking after school special?" Mickey huffed, peeling the label off his beer  
bottle nervously. Things were great with he and Ian, but Mickey couldn't deny that he worried  
about that shit too. Things had been good with them before and ended up imploding or exploding,  
whichever caused more widespread destruction. He didn't want to believe it would ever happen  
again. He couldn't let his mind go there.

"I'm serious," Iggy stated, "You've been through enough. I don't fucking trust him is all."  
Mickey didn't know how to respond so he just rolled his eyes and flipped his brother off.

"Ugh, Iggy, you're such a downer. They're so stinking cute together," Selena chirped pausing the  
game. "like honestly, I tell all my friends at the club how adorable you two are on the daily."

Mickey shifted uncomfortably and pretended that he wasn't in the room.

"Babe, you don't know their history. You didn't see how Ian..." he dropped his voice low, even  
though it was obvious Mickey would still hear him, "kept taking and taking then broke him. That  
motherfucker is savage. Didn't even fucking flinch while he tore Mick's heart out."

"You gonna shut your fucking mouth, dickwad, or do you want me to shut it for you?" Mickey  
snapped feeling his hand tighten on a fist.

"Shh, shh," Selena soothed trying to calm the tension. "Ig, people change. I can tell Ian is just  
crazy about Mickey. It's incredible really," she paused and looked up like she was scanning her  
thoughts, "I notice all the little things. He's always trying to touch you," she stated turning her  
attention to Mickey who was awkwardly avoiding eye contact, "like he always has to have his  
hands on you, somehow. Could be your elbow, shoulder, knee, anywhere he can touch you," she  
turned back to Iggy, "he seriously looks at Mickey like the sun rises and falls in his eyes. It's  
insane. It's like movie love, I swear."

Mickey cleared his throat and knuckled his nose, "You done?"

"Almost," Selena said with a Cheshire Cat grin. "Gonna miss you, but I'm going to miss seeing  
Ian come out here to grab something in just his boxer briefs so much more."

"The fuck, Selena!" Iggy exclaimed. Mickey tried to stifle his laughter.

"Relax, relax," She soothed patting Iggy's knee, "he obviously has nothing on you, babe." She  
shot Mickey a look that screamed 'yeah right' and rolled her eyes. "What do you have planned for  
Saturday?"

"Me?" Mickey questioned confused. Selena nodded, "Uhh, I gotta work..."

"So are you gonna celebrate on Friday or Sunday instead?" She asked.

"Celebrate what?"

"You serious?" Iggy said with a wry laugh, "your bitch hasn't been ridin' your ass about  
Valentines Day like mine has?" He paused, "I mean I know he's been ridin' your ass..."

"Alright, alright. Shut the fuck up," Mickey insisted, rolling his eyes.

Ian hadn't brought up anything about Valentine's Day. He wouldn't give a shit about celebrating a  
dumb fucking holiday like that, right? Mickey's mind began to wonder to dangerous places  
wondering what Theo had done for Ian on Valentine's Days they had been the together. He knew  
the guy had spoiled Ian rotten, so he was sure he did it up big. The dude was corny as shit. He  
proposed to Ian in front of a ballroom full of people, sappy ass speech and everything. Fuck. Ian  
was probably expecting something. Mickey knew he was fucking gay, but this was some true  
faggy ass shit.

"Think I should be, you know, doing something?" Mickey asked uneasily.

"Oh absolutely!" Selena confirmed excitedly. "I could help you plan something. It will be so  
much fun."

Mickey could feel his cheeks beginning to tint pink as Iggy raised his eyebrows clearly judging  
what a bitch his brother had become. When it came down to it Iggy could think whatever he  
wanted, if Mickey was supposed to do something romantic or some shit for Valentine's Day, he'd  
do it. It was stupid as hell, but part of him didn't want Ian to think back to his time with Theo and  
remember how lavished he was. He didn't want him to miss that, to miss Theo. He saw the look  
Ian had when they decided to rent the apartment, and he knew there were parts of Ian that were  
different now, even if Ian tried to deny it. Mickey could never afford to do even a quarter of the  
shit that Theo did for Ian, but he had to do something...

"What would be fun?" Ian asked as he entered the room, dropping the box of trash bags down on  
the coffee table and unwrapping his scarf.

"You two having your own place," Selena said jumping in with the quick save. "It's a super big  
step, but it's so super amazing."

Ian grinned down at Mickey and ran his fingers through his boyfriend's black hair lovingly. "It's  
going to be great," his hand dropped to Mickey's shoulder where it stopped to give some  
massaging squeezes.

Now that Selena had pointed out how Ian always attempted to physically connect with Mickey, it  
was all the brunet could concentrate on. Ian's hand was back in his hair, then rubbing his neck. He  
sat down on the arm of Mickey's chair and made sure his knee was resting against Mickey's  
elbow.

Ian was talking to Selena and instinctively needing to feel connected to Mickey is some way. It  
was warm, intimate, and overwhelming. Mickey wished Selena hadn't mentioned it because now  
he was worried that he'd never concentrate on anything but Ian's touch when he was around him.  
As if he wasn't already intoxicated enough by the redhead, this added a whole other layer of  
addiction. Like any good junkie he found himself needing a fix, moving his hand onto Ian's knee,  
wanting to feel him too.

Chapter Seven: Bed

Ian ran his hand up and down Mickey's strong arm, squeezing gently at his bicep then planting a  
soft kiss on the pale skin, "How are you so beautiful?" He asked staring at his boyfriend in  
amazement.

Mickey scoffed and averted his eyes from Ian's, looking at one of the few posters they hadn't  
removed yet from the walls of his childhood room instead.

"Really, you're incredible, Mick. I could just sit here an look at you all day."

"We still got shit to pack, Romeo," Mickey stated obviously uncomfortable by the compliments  
that Ian was bestowing upon him. "Can't just sit here creeping on me."

"Can we talk about something kinda weird?" Ian ventured tentatively. He leaned up on his elbow,  
body stiffer than it had been while he was painting Mickey's skin with his fingers just moments  
before.

"You're always weird, Gallagher," Mickey teased turning his head on the pillow so he was  
looking up at his boyfriend.

"I'm serious," Ian said his tone confirming the fact that he was, "this shit is kinda uncomfortable to  
talk about but I need to know some things."

Mickey nodded beginning to feel the nerves under his skin bristle. "Alright."

"And no matter what's said, we can't get pissed at each other," Ian added cautiously, his green  
eyes earnest and troubled.

"Shit, get where you're goin' Ian. You're freaking me the fuck out," Mickey urged gnawed at his  
bottom lip nervously.

"I want to know more about your relationship with Jake," Ian admitted quickly. He sat up in the  
bed, arms crossed protectively over his chest.

"Fuck. You serious?" Mickey muttered uncomfortably, knowing by the look at Ian's face that now  
wasn't the time to taunt the guy. "Ok." He acquiesced sitting up and subconsciously copying Ian's  
cross legged posture. There they sat, clothed only in matching black boxer briefs, facing each  
other, ready to have a necessary, but awkward talk.

"So..." Ian began, "Did you love him?"

"Jumped right in," Mickey stated blue eyes growing a little wider than usual, "I dunno. Maybe?"  
He sniffed and knuckled his nose. Nervous habit.

"How can you not know?" Ian asked skeptically, eyes narrowed on Mickey, trying to dissect the  
look on his face.

Mickey shrugged, "Not sure. I mean, he was pretty good to me...nice and shit."

"He was?" Ian's tone was a complex mix of both happiness and sadness.

Mickey nodded, "Yeah, he was. Didn't really fight either, which was fucking weird."

"I never really fought with Theo. I mean, I fought with him but he never fought back," Ian paused  
pondering the implications of his statement. "You and me fight a lot, not as much as before, but  
we still fight."

Mickey shrugged, "it's what we're used to I guess."

Ian clicked his tongue in agreement, "So he was nice? Like too nice?"

"No, not too nice. Nice, nice, I guess," Mickey said awkwardly.

"Did he make you laugh? Was he funny?" Ian pressed.

"He was funny," Mickey confirmed, "Was Theo?"

"No, not at all. I was funny enough for the both of us," Ian said with a smirk.

"Fucking dork," Mickey said with a laugh leaning over to kiss Ian. They let their tongue twist  
together lazily for a few moments before Mickey pulled back, "I gotta question, too."

"Yeah? Ok. Go ahead," Ian prompted openly, reaching over to intertwine his fingers with  
Mickey's.

"You ever let Theo fuck you?" Mickey blurted and noticed Ian's guilty face immediately. "Wow.  
Shit. Really Ian?"

Ian cleared his throat feeling choked by the betrayal and shock that was so evident on Mickey's  
face. He squeezed his boyfriend's hand a little, and sighed when Mickey pulled it away and ran it  
against his forehead, eyes closed, clearly upset. "It was only a few times," Ian began, he cleared  
his throat again, "We agreed that we wouldn't get pissed," Ian reminded Mickey, who just shot  
him the nastiest fucking look that he had seen in a while. Shit. He was livid.

"Who said I was fucking mad?" Mickey huffed, "Just surprised you spread your legs open for that  
viagroid is all. He give it to you good? Make you moan his name?" His ears were turning pink a  
clear sign of growing rage. "Turn you out?"

"C'mon Mick," Ian pleaded trying to grab Mickey's hand again, only to be rebuffed, "It was like 3  
times over 4 years..."

Mickey was standing now, pacing the room, trying to work through his anger. "You make him  
beat the shit out of you before you'd give yourself to him, Gallagher?"

"Fuck," Ian sighed shaking his head, "Shouldn't have told you. Did Jake let you fuck him?" He  
could feel his hackles rising. "Hmmm?"

"Let me?" Mickey said with a wry laugh, "Like he was doing me a favor?" He shook his head  
and took a deep breath trying to hold his words back, but easily gave in, "He begged me to fuck  
him, Ian. Fucking loved it when I bent him over and drilled his ass. He was hot as fuck about it  
too. He'd fuck me hard, then ride my cock til we both came. You do that with Theo? Flip? It's  
fucking awesome, right?"

"Wow," Ian muttered tears prickling in his green eyes. He felt like he had been punched in the  
face. He knew Mickey would be hurt by the fact that he had bottomed for Theo, but he hadn't  
expected this level of a reaction.

"You're gonna cry now?" Mickey howled, "Fucking hilarious. Always the victim, right?" He  
pulled on his hoodie and jeans.

"Where are you going?" Ian questioned, his voice wavering and weak. "Please, can we just talk  
about this?"

Mickey stood there expectantly waiting to hear what Ian had to say.

"I'm sorry, ok. I only did it when I was fucked up." Ian offered. Mickey rolled his eyes  
impatiently. "Seriously, Mickey. It wasn't like he meant.." he paused and shook his head, "there's  
nothing I can say to make this better."

Mickey pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and sighed, "Fuck, Ian."  
Ian bottoming had always been an issue in their relationship. Mickey loved to get fucked, liked it  
better than giving, but it wasn't about that. Maybe he'd never been clear with Ian about the real  
reasons he wanted to top him. It made him feel too soft, too gay to bring it up, but it was about  
being inside of him. He wanted to give it to him slow and intimate, make him moan and cum.  
Possess him. He wanted to feel that type of closeness with Ian, wanted Ian to feel the intensity;  
make his body quake and shiver around Mickey's cock. But, Ian never surrendered himself to  
Mickey. The only time he'd let Mickey fuck him had been rough, hateful, and disgusting. He let  
Mickey fuck him when he wanted to punish himself, but let Theo have him in the way Mickey  
had always wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Ian said softly, "Please come back over here."

"You ain't gotta be sorry," Mickey replied cooly, "didn't owe me shit." He walked back over to  
the bed and threw himself back, head on the the pillow so he could look up at the ceiling and  
avoid Ian's eyes.

"I want to be with you, sober, feel you inside me," Ian told Mickey laying down next to him and  
holding onto his hand. Mickey reluctantly allowed Ian to rest his head on his shoulder, "I needed  
to be honest with you. I love you." There was no response from the brunet so Ian picked his head  
up and craned his neck around so he was looking straight into Mickey's face, "I love you," he  
repeated honestly, "I've never loved anyone more than I love you. No way I ever could. You're it  
for me, Mickey."

Mickey licked his lips, his eyes focused on the redheads mouth as he continued to repeat his  
devotions to Mickey. "You don't gotta do anything you don't wanna do, Ian. Never pressured  
you. Not gonna start now."

"I need to have you in every way," Ian assured him, "didn't realize it then, but it's how I feel  
now." He cupped his hand on Mickey's cheek letting his thumb rest next to his ear and moved it  
gently against Mickey's soft skin. "Plus, there's no way I'm gonna let that motherfuckin' pig be  
better to my man than I am."

"Oh come the fuck on," Mickey groused, rolling his eyes, but betrayed by the smirk playing on  
his lips.

"Gonna take care of my man," Ian mewed climbing on top of him.

"That's really fucking gay the way you're saying that, really gay," Mickey stated his grin giving  
him away.

"We're really fucking gay," Ian reminded him licking and kissing his neck.

"Speaking of being really gay, got something else to talk about," Mickey said pushing Ian back by  
the chest gently.

"Oooook," Ian drawled climbing off of Mickey so his boyfriend could sit up with him.

"What's your schedule this weekend?"

"Every night," Ian replied sticking out his tongue to show his distaste.

"I work a lunch on Friday and dinner on Saturday. Was thinking that maybe after we were done  
work on Saturday night we could stay at the apartment for the first time. We should be all moved  
in by then..." Mickey tapped his knee nervously, "and I thought we could go to a nice restaurant  
or something in the morning to, you know, celebrate." He looked at Ian to gauge his reaction and  
found the redhead with a big goofy grin on his face.

"Is this for Valentine's Day, Mick?" Ian purred climbing onto his boyfriend's lap. He kissed his  
lips and then let his mouth trail down to his jaw line, leaving a smattering of soft kisses in his  
wake.

"If you want it to be, it could be," Mickey replied rubbing Ian's lower back and pulling him closer.

"Gotta take care of my man."

*

"Forgot my key," Ian apologized as Mickey pulled open the door to their apartment.  
Mickey raised his eyebrows skeptically, "You sure this isn't some ploy to get me to carry your ass  
through the door or something?" He leaned his body against the door frame, not allowing Ian  
access.

"We're not married, we're just living in sin," Ian stated with a yawn. "Besides, I'd carry you.  
You're smaller than me."

Mickey rolled his eyes and muttered 'dick' under his breath. "Tired from your long night grinding  
on lonely valentine-less dude's cocks?" Mickey asked with mock sympathy.

Ian laughed and gave him the finger. "You gonna let me in or keep giving me shit?"

"I'm kinda lonely..." Mickey continued, "been waitin' for my boyfriend to get home to our brand  
new shitty apartment so he could grind my cock."

"Yeah?" Ian asked raising his eyebrows, totally digging this flirty version of his boyfriend.

"Wouldn't tell him because it's pretty gay, but I missed him tonight," Mickey stated shyly, biting  
his nail and looking up at Ian.

"I heard your boyfriend's pretty gay so he likes hearing that shit," Ian flirted wrapping his arms  
around Mickey's waist, tickling him playfully and dipping his face into the crook of his neck to  
kiss him. He could have sworn he heard a giggle escape Mickey's lips. It was cute to see him so  
giddy.

"Ok, ok," Mickey said pulling back and taking Ian's hand. He led him into the apartment and  
straight back to the bedroom.

Mickey was anticipating the redheads reaction and Ian didn't disappoint. His jaw dropped open  
and his green eyes went wide. "Seriously? Holy shit, Mick." He couldn't believe that Mickey had  
done something like this. It felt like a dream.

The room was dark and a few little tea light candles were sitting on every flat surface. It didn't  
look like one of those overdone romantic rooms that he'd seen in the movies, but it was beautiful  
the way the flames flickered and cast dancing shadows against the walls.

Mickey stepped behind Ian and wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend's waist laying  
kisses on his back over his jacket. "You like it?"

"Love it," Ian confirmed turning around so he could grab Mickey's face in his hands and kiss him  
deeply.

"C'mon," Mickey mumbled pulling back so he could tug Ian's coat off, then proceed to undress  
himself.

"Want you to fuck me," Ian said as he stripped off his remaining clothes.

"Not gonna fuck you," Mickey stated quietly as he leaned up to catch his boyfriend's lips, their  
kisses gaining intensity as they fell back on the bed.

"No?" Ian breathed between kisses, "Gonna make love to me? Boys II Men shit?"

"Gonna take care of you," Mickey responded as his lips trailed off of Ian's and moved down his  
jaw, to his neck, and then down his chest. When he reached his sternum he started to lick wetly  
down to his dick. He took Ian's long, hard cock into his mouth and looked up at his boyfriend's  
gorgeous face as he worked his tongue around the head of his cock.

Ian propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch Mickey go to work. The gorgeous brunet  
was bathed in candlelight, on hands and knees, mouth stretched over his cock, blue eyes hooded,  
and plump ass raised up in the air. Ian was pretty sure it was the most beautiful sight he had ever  
laid eyes on.

"Fuck you're stunning, Mickey," Ian sighed losing himself in the moment. He was overwhelmed  
by emotions and forced to lay his head back and breathe. He was jarred out of his reverie when he  
heard the familiar click of the lube top popping. "Not wasting any time, huh?" Ian asked, his voice  
clearly nervous. He had only been fucked when he was high or manic, and right now he was  
stone cold sober and sweating it.

"15 years is a long enough wait," Mickey stated slicking up his index finger, "Chill, ok. You'll  
like it." He brought Ian's cock back into his mouth and started to swirl his wet finger gently  
around Ian's tight ring of muscles. Ian's breath hitched at the pending intrusion. "Shhh," Mickey  
soothed from around Ian's cock causing the redhead's body to shudder.

He sucked harder on his dick as a diversion tactic and slowly inched his finger into Ian's tight  
hole. Ian's breath stuttered and he let out a low groan as Mickey fingered him slowly. He  
continued to carefully loosen Ian adding a second and then third finger when he could feel he was  
ready. Ian was moaning louder as the burning sensation subsided and gave way to pleasure.  
Mickey pulled his mouth off of Ian's dick, earning a disappointed groan from Ian. "Think you're  
ready...you feel ready?"

Ian nodded feeling strangely empty when Mickey pulled his fingers out of his ass, "Need you  
inside me," Ian practically whined.

Mickey grinned with satisfaction, "Yeah, you're ready." Mickey pumped his hard cock a few  
times as Ian's blown out eyes watched him with unadulterated lust.

He lined up to Ian's hole and pushed into him slowly, only making it halfway before he felt  
resistance. Ian was moaning underneath him. "Keep going," Ian urged, voice wrecked.

"You gotta relax, baby," Mickey whispered leaning down to kiss Ian. Ian sighed into Mickey's  
mouth. Mickey had never called him baby, babe or anything of the ilk before. Ian felt his own  
cock twitch and he thought he may cum from just the endearment. He forced himself to pull his  
mouth away from Mickey's so he could take a deep breath and keep it together.  
Mickey moved his lips down to Ian's neck so he could suck a mark into his pale skin as he  
continued to push into Ian's tightness. Mickey shimmied his hips a little to stretch Ian out and urge  
his body to give Mickey space. Ian was filling the room with a chorus of moans, that were really  
fucking turning Mickey on. "There we go," Mickey rasped against Ian's skin as he bottomed out.  
He lifted his lips off of Ian and straightened up so he could see the redhead's face. His eyes were  
practically rolled back in his head and he was biting his bottom lip hard. "Feel ok?"

"So full," was all Ian could muster.

Mickey started to roll his hips slowly. Ian's ass was so tight around him that he was sure he would  
cum any minute just from the sensation, "Fuck, you feel good. Have the tightest ass."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, fucking amazing," Mickey sighed letting his head drop slightly so he could watch his cock  
move in and out of Ian. He picked up his pace a little still watching as Ian's body absorbed him so  
perfectly.

Ian let out a cry when Mickey angled his hips up so he could hit his prostate. "Fuck, shit." He felt  
his body shaking as Mickey continued to aim at the sensitive spot. Mickey was relentless as he  
pressed against it with each slow, deep thrust. From the way that Ian was coming apart underneath  
of him, he knew his boyfriend was close. He dropped his hand to his boyfriend's big, hard cock  
and began to stroke Ian along with his pace. He was keening under him, his moans increasing  
with Mickey's speed, "Ohhh fuck, oohhh shit, gonna cum, Mick." He crooned grabbing onto the  
sheets beside him as Mickey gave one last jab to his prostate and had Ian shooting his load all over  
Mickey's hand. The way Ian was clenching and contracting around his cock drew Mickey over  
the edge as well. Ian groaned and twitched as he felt Mickey's warmth fill him up.

"Fuck," Ian groaned wrapping his hand around Mickey's neck and pulling his him down so he  
could kiss him passionately. They were both still panting and twitching through aftershocks. "That  
was amazing," Ian sighed as Mickey collapsed next to him. "Love feeling your cum in me. So  
fucking nice," Ian mewed snuggling up on Mickey, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for a  
kiss. Mickey obliged while rubbing his fingers on Ian's back attempting to soothe and slow his  
boyfriend's breathing. "Gonna get addicted to that feeling."

"Yeah, you gonna become my needy little bottom, Gallagher?" Mickey asked with a smirk.

"Mmm maybe," Ian hummed, "I love this. I love you. Thank you."

"Wanted to make it special. It's kinda big deal.."

"The apartment, Valentine's Day, or fucking my ass," Ian asked grinning up at him.

"All of the above," Mickey relented. "I..." he paused and shook his head as if he had talked  
himself out of what he was going to say. "I gotta blow these candles out or we're gonna pass out  
and burn the whole building down."

Ian nodded, biting his lips and watching as the flames disappeared one by one, obscuring his view  
of Mickey.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Eight: Crush

Mickey grunted at the intruding sunlight that had permeated his eyelids and woke him up way  
earlier than he had wanted to be awakened. He turned his head and attempted to assess the kinked  
mini-blinds that barely covered the window from the comfort of their bed. He’d have to fix that.  
He’d probably just tack a bed sheet over it. There’s no way they could afford to replace the blinds,  
not yet.

He sighed and turned back over to face Ian trying not to let worries about money overtake his  
mind as they had been for the last several days. It was a lot easier to make cash when he could do  
illegal shit to get it. He knew they’d be ok, though. They made enough to afford the apartment and  
the bare necessities. Mickey had already decided he’d buy less beer, try to cut down on how many  
packs of cigarettes he smoked a day, and ask Luca about that waiter job. He had promised himself  
that he’d put aside $20 a week to save up for his tattoo removal. No matter how long it took, he  
needed to make it happen. Maybe he’d cover it up instead. That would probably cost less. He’d  
look into it.

They’d make it all work somehow. The truth was Ian made a lot more money than Mickey did.  
As much as he didn’t want to he’d have to talk to his boyfriend about picking up more shifts at the  
club. On a good night Ian could pull in more than Mickey made in a week.  
He brought his hand up so he could gently push his fingers through the Ian’s hair. The redhead,  
still sleeping, dropped his cheek so it was resting on Mickey’s wrist. Mickey felt a smile tug on his  
own lips and leaned over to kiss Ian’s forehead. Ian looked so innocent and soft laying there  
wrapped up in the sheet, steady puffs of air blowing out of slightly parted lips. Mickey moved his  
lips down to press them sweetly against Ian’s. He pulled back happy to see he hadn’t woken him  
up. He could watch him like this forever. This is how he wanted things to be for Ian. He wanted  
him calm, safe, and taken care of. The thought that he may not always be able to provide that for  
him scared the shit out him.

What if the program that Ian was getting his medication from fell through? There was no way  
they’d be able to afford his fucking pills right now. Ian was swallowing down hundreds of dollars  
a month. He knew they needed to start saving some money in case things went to shit. Ian  
definitely needed to pick up extra shifts.

Shit, he felt guilty. Ian had left a situation where he would never have to worry about money,  
never wonder if he could cover his meds or therapy, for Mickey. He would’ve been set for life.  
Ian was a dumbass. He was glad he was a dumbass, but damn, what an idiot. It left Mickey  
feeling like he needed to be worth it. He knew he was putting pressure on himself to be enough, a  
good enough reason for Ian to have done that.

He found himself wrapping his body around Ian’s: one arm tucked under Ian’s arm so he could  
bring his hand up to play with the back of his hair, the other arm squeezed between Ian’s hip and  
the bed so he could rest his hand on his boyfriend’s naked ass. He gently nudged Ian’s lanky legs  
open a little so he could slip his knee in between them. Ian stirred a bit and Mickey decided he  
didn’t give a fuck that he woke him up. He needed to be close to him. “Hi” Ian uttered with a grin  
opening his eyes slowly to find Mickey’s deep blues only centimeters away from them.

“You’re a dumbass,” Mickey told him kissing his lips softly. A thank you.

“I love you, too,” Ian said kissing him back, “Do I want to know why I’m a dumbass?” He asked  
between Mickey’s increasingly fervent kisses.

“My dumbass,” Mickey corrected him reaching for the lube on the nightstand and tossing it to Ian,

“I’m glad you are, a dumbass. My dumbass. I’m glad you’re fucking dumb.”

“Where’s this coming from?” Ian asked letting out a laugh as Mickey pushed him onto his back  
and straddled him continuing to tongue into his mouth.

“Prep me,” Mickey commanded as he kissed Ian’s neck hotly, “Gonna fucking ride you.”  
Ian didn’t waste any time complying. He was pretty sure this was the best way to wake up. Their  
first night, and now their first morning in the apartment had been a success as far as he concerned.  
He prepped Mickey and laid back so his boyfriend could ride him hard into the bed. “Feels good  
to switch back,” Ian gasped.

Mickey laughed and continued working his dumbass.  
*

“This place is really nice, Mick,” Ian said as they sat down at a two top by a large window  
overlooking the lake. He waited until the hostess walked away and dropped his voice low, “Can  
we afford this?”

“Don’t ask me stupid shit. If I couldn’t fucking afford it we wouldn’t be here,” Mickey snapped.  
He was using the remainder of the tattoo removal money that hadn’t gone towards the deposit for  
the apartment. He cleared his throat aware he was overreacting. It was a sore spot and Ian didn’t  
know it. There was no use in getting wound up. “Wanted to do something nice for you,” he said  
licking his lips and looking at Ian expectantly.

“It’s so nice,” Ian assured him, “Our first official date.”

“Don’t get soft on me, Gallagher,” Mickey warned playfully before looking down at the menu.  
He had gone to several nicer restaurants with Jake, but he still wasn’t sure what half the shit on the  
menu was, “You want to just order a bunch of shit and split it or whatever?”

Ian nodded and grinned at Mickey stupidly.

“What?” Mickey asked uncomfortably, his nose scrunching in concern.

“I’m wondering if my 15 year old self would’ve ever believed that Mickey Milkovich would take  
me on a brunch date,” Ian chuckled reaching his hand across the table and holding onto Mickey’s.  
Mickey smiled back a little shyer than usual. He had held Jake’s hand plenty in public, Ian’s too  
but it was always different with Ian. When he was close to Ian he felt like people could read all  
over him how in love he was with the guy was. Fuck he loved him. He wondered if he’d ever be  
able to tell Ian that again. He wanted to, but he just couldn’t go there. “You’re into brunch now,  
huh? He turn you onto it?”

Ian avoided Jake’s name as often as possible. As soon as he asked Mickey the question he  
immediately regretted it. His boyfriend’s eyes rolled and he pulled his hand away from Ian’s.

“Why you gotta bring him up? You do that a lot,” Mickey informed him as he rubbed his  
eyebrows, perturbed.

“Still jealous,” Ian replied honestly his tone apologetic. He grabbed Mickey’s hand again,  
“Thought I lost you to him. Fucked me up.”

Mickey’s face softened, “Guess I’m fucked up, too.” He stated.

“Why?” Ian questioned, green eyes concerned, “Why are you?”

“Are you prepared to order?” The waitress asked cutting into the tense moment.

“Uh yeah,” Ian said letting go of Mickey’s hand so he could hold the menu up and rattle off their  
order “We’ll do the Brioche French Toast with Raspberry and Rose Chantilly, Citrus Poached  
Tiger Shrimp, Savory Bacon and Crab Bread Pudding Benedict, two sides of the boar bacon, and  
two peach Belinnis.”

Mickey just stared at him, eyebrows raised almost up to his hairline as the waitress took the menu,  
“What in the fuck did you just order?”

“Food,” Ian responded flatly. "You’ll like it. Now tell me why you’re fucked up?”

“Because of that,” Mickey stated.

“Because of what?” Ian asked confused , searching Mickey’s face for a clue.

“Because you can order like that at a restaurant like this,” Mickey admitted, “Like it’s nothing.  
Like you did that shit a million times before.”

“I have,” Ian confirmed. He saw sadness and defeat pass over Mickey’s face. There was a weight  
behind his eyes that hadn’t been there moments before. Ian fucking hated to see it there. “I don’t  
need any of this shit, Mick. I need you. You know that.”

“What did you do last year for Valentine’s Day, Ian?” Mickey inquired watching as his  
boyfriend’s eyes quickly averted from his, “Just tell me.” He wasn’t sure why he was torturing  
himself. Wasn’t sure why he needed to hear it, hear what he could never give him.

“Can’t we just enjoy this?” Ian asked, eyes turned back to Mickey. Pleading. “Please, let’s just  
enjoy this.”

“You started,” Mickey reminded him. “Tell me.”

“We were in Paris,” Ian surrendered.

Mickey just nodded and stared out the window watching as snow fell heavy onto the choppy blue  
water of the lake. While he had been in prison, Ian had been traveling the world, living a life that  
neither of them ever thought would be possible growing up on the South Side. Ian could deny it  
repeatedly, but Mickey knew that life with him would never compare. They were always going to  
be poor; maybe upgrading from their shitty apartment to a shitty house eventually, living from pay  
check to pay check, watering down milk. There would probably be some winters where they  
wouldn’t be able to have heat, and definitely summers without air conditioning. Ian knew the drill,  
he lived it for most of his life, but he had always gotten out, just enough. There were loft parties  
and well to do boyfriends, jobs with health insurance, nice cars. Before all of that there were  
dreams of the army, traveling the world, serving his country. Mickey had never doubted that he  
would live the life he was living, Ian had always seen a different view, a way out. How do you  
come back from that?

Ian just sat quietly watching his boyfriend as he got lost in the water. He didn’t know what to say.  
He had already said all he could; that none of that shit mattered to him. But he knew that Mickey  
knew that wasn’t the fully true. He liked nice things. He had spent the last several years being  
spoiled rotten. It was an adjustment to go back to the South Side lifestyle. But it was worth it if it  
meant being with Mickey. Mickey was worth it.

Mickey's pensive introspection was broken by food being placed down on the table. He looked at  
the plates and hardly recognized any of it. He raised his eyes so he was looking at Ian. At least he  
still recognized him.

Chapter Nine: Whispering

"Hey, listen," Mickey began buttoning up his black work shirt, "I'm sorry about this morning. I  
shouldn't have gone there."

"So handsome, Mick," Ian said allowing his eyes to travel over Mickey appreciatively, "and you  
don't have to be sorry." He walked across the room to wrap Mickey up in his arms. He hugged  
him close and leaned down to whisper in his ear, "You." He paused and stood back up so he  
could tell him to his face, "You're all I need. You're it for me. Just you."

He could see a small blush creep over Mickey's skin and knew his boyfriend was going to try to  
turn his face away from Ian's gaze. He preemptively put his hands on Mickey's cheeks so he  
couldn't.

"I'm really proud of you, too. You work really fucking hard," he continued.

"Alright, alright, Mr. Motivation, enough," Mickey groaned, but his face told a different story and  
Ian could see it. He was drinking in the compliments Ian was pouring on him like he was parched.  
Maybe he had been. At that moment Ian made a commitment to never let Mickey get thirsty again.

"I mean it," Ian emphasized. He leaned in to kiss Mickey slowly, sliding his tongue against the  
brunet's lips asking for access. They stood there kissing deeply in the center of their bedroom for a  
while, just enjoying each others mouths, the moment, their own space.

"I gotta get to work," Mickey said pulling back breathlessly, "we're gonna finish this when you  
get home tonight."

"I'm in the lounge," Ian sighed, "So I'll be late. You can come by when you're off, so I can get  
you off," Ian flirted grabbing Mickey by his belt and pulling him close enough to feel how hard he  
was making him.

"Nah, I'll wait up for you. Want you to give me a good pounding. Make me fucking scream,"  
Mickey licked his lips and grabbed some of the material of Ian's hoodie in his fist, "Can you do  
that for me, Gallagher?"

"Fuck," Ian groaned leaning down to catch Mickey's mouth again. He felt himself melting under  
Mickey's touch. His boyfriend was running his hand from his cheek, down his neck, to his chest  
and Ian felt like he was done for. "Can do it right now. Rail you real good. Make you cum hard."

"Uh uh," Mickey tsked, "Can't be late." He pulled back from Ian who trailed after him like a  
puppy into the bathroom. Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey's waist and started to rut his jean  
covered hard on against Mickey's clothed ass as his boyfriend brushed his teeth. "Stop humping  
me," Mickey laughed his voice garbled by the toothpaste foaming up his mouth.

"Can't. You're so fucking hot. Need that perfect ass around my cock," Ian panted as he kissed  
Mickey's neck.

Mickey leaned over to spit, his natural bend causing him to back his ass up harder on Ian. The  
redhead moaned. "Oh come the fuck on," Mickey said shoving Ian off of him playfully before  
wiping his face. "You're gonna nut in your pants, man."

"I'll be fast," Ian promised, "Don't leave me like this."

"Gotta go. See you later," Mickey grinned giving Ian a peck before turning on his heals and  
calling over his shoulder, "Think of me tonight."

"Gonna think about you right now," Ian yelled back, unzipping his jeans. He pulled out his ready  
cock, starting to stroke rhythmically as he thought about his hot ass boyfriend and all the nasty  
things he was going to do to him after they both finished work.

*

"You wanted to see me?" Ian asked tentatively as he entered Marty's office. His boss had been  
giving him shit ever since Mickey decided to claim his cock in the middle of the lounge a few  
weeks ago.

"Yeah, take a seat, Red," Marty said gruffly. Ian complied astutely aware that he was in only  
booty shorts, while Marty was in a three piece suit. "I took a chance on you having you back, you  
realize that right?"

Ian nodded, "I do, and I'm grateful."

"I figured your... reputation would be good for business," He continued. Ian immediately  
grimaced. He hated the fact that he was notorious for all the wrong reasons. It was mortifying  
when men whispered and pointed, obviously recognizing him from his time in the papers. "And it  
has been."

"Ok," Ian cleared his throat nervously. He had no idea where Marty was going with this.

"That being said, you're still held to the same standards as the rest of the boys. Do you understand  
that?"

He was so fucking condescending but Ian wasn't in the position to tell the guy to fuck off so he  
just nodded instead.

"I'm writing you up for the marks. I've told you twice already that they're not acceptable and you  
keep showing up with more. You come here with another one and you're done. It's a turn off to  
the customers."

"Shit, I'm sorry Marty. I won't let it happen again." Ian promised feeling his cheeks begin to blush.  
He honestly didn't notice when Mickey was marking him up. He had to start doing checks before  
he left the apartment.

"Stand up," Marty ordered. Ian did as he was told standing in front of the big man that had just  
gotten up from his desk chair. "Let's count, shall we?" Marty moved way too close to Ian. Ian  
could feel his hot, wet breath against his neck as the man leaned in close to begin his count.

"They're fading, but here are two here," he stated running his fingers over the marks. Ian could  
feel his breath hitch as the man's gaze traveled down his body, "three, four" he said touching two  
marks on his left hip with his fingertips. He trailed his finger against the band at the top of Ian's  
shorts, "five" he continued landing on a purple mark on his right hip. "Six" he breathed as he  
reached in between Ian's legs to touch a small purple mark on his upper thigh.

Ian felt like he was going to be sick. His body was flushed with heat. He could feel his head  
succumbing to dizziness. He took a deep breath and willed himself to keep it together. He fucking  
needed this job.

"Turn around," Marty demanded. His hands were back on Ian's body immediately. "Scratches" he  
said with an annoyed click of his tongue as he slowly traced the pale pink scratch marks on Ian's  
back. Ian felt his body shudder. Marty laughed indulgently at Ian's reaction, "feels good, huh?"  
Ian remained silent. He could feel Marty's body too close to his.

"Think that's all," his boss relented. "You must fuck him pretty good, Red. Bet you drive him  
wild."

Ian turned and sat back down in the chair wanting to keep Marty as far away from him as  
possible.

The older man took his seat, too. "Do you?" He inquired pushing his greasy black hair back.

"Do I what?" Ian asked. He could feel his knee shaking and silently commanded it to stop.

"Fuck him good?" Marty repeated, devouring Ian with his dark eyes.

"We're happy," Ian responded staring at Marty trying not to show fear. He couldn't lose his job.

"I bet," Marty said with a laugh. "As I said, these seven marks are going in your file."

"Ok," Ian said beginning to stand.

"Not so fast," Marty warned gesturing for Ian to sit back down. Ian did. "I have a VIP group in  
private 3 tonight that I want you to take care of. You'll show them a good time, right?"

Ian nodded, "yeah, sure."

"Good," Marty gave Ian a pleaded smile, "That little thug of yours is on probation, huh?"

"Mickey," He stated putting emphasis on his boyfriends name, "is on probation, yes."

"Hmmm," Marty hummed bringing a pen between his teeth so he could bite the cap grossly. "So  
I'm assuming he has to stay on the straight and narrow then."

"Yeah," Ian confirmed not knowing where his boss was headed with this.

"Good to know. Go up there and make my VIPs happy, Red." Marty ordered, "and come back in  
here before your shift tomorrow so I can check you again."

Ian stood up quickly, muttered an strained "ok" and got the fuck out of the creeper's office. He  
needed a drink to calm his nerves so he immediately headed to over to Tim's bar.

"What can I get for you, man?" Tim asked pleasantly before noticing Ian's shell shocked  
demeanor, "hey-you ok, Ian?"

"Uh, yeah," Ian replied not too convincingly. "Just a shot of anything."

"That's easy enough," Tim said with a sympathetic smile, "Shit ok at home with Mickey?"

"Yeah, we're great," Ian responded grabbing the shot glass that Tim was holding out to him and  
throwing it back. He cringed as it burned down the throat. "I'm on VIP tonight."

"Ah, ok," Tim nodded as if it explained Ian's odd behavior, "good luck man."

Ian gave him a half smile before heading up to the VIP section.

Chapter Ten: The Light

Ian fumbled with his key, too drunk to line it up properly with the keyhole, "Fuck," he mumbled  
messing around with it until he was finally able to open the door. He hadn't realized how wasted  
he was until he was leaving work. He had taken too many shots, trying to relieve the stress of  
Marty's inspection.

He wasn't supposed to drink. It went against the steps of his recovery and messed with his  
medication. He felt like a fuck up. He wished he hadn't been so weak. He wished he would have  
been able to deal without attempting to drown the frustration. Most importantly, he wished he had  
something to eat.

He noticed Mickey passed out on the couch, the infomercial playing on the television talking  
excitedly to itself. Ian tried to quietly make his way to the kitchen, not wanting to wake his  
sleeping boyfriend. "Fuck," he cried loudly as he tripped over a pair of his boots that were laying  
in the middle of the floor where he had irresponsibly left them earlier in the day. He missed his  
cleaning ladies.

He grunted as his body crashed onto the floor. That was going to leave a mark. Shit.

"The fuck?!" Mickey shot up from his slumber, his eyes scanning the apartment wildly. He caught  
sight of the lanky redhead struggling to pull himself up off the ground. "Hey, hey," he said  
moving quickly to his boyfriend's side to help him up. "Hey," he tilted Ian's chin down so he  
could look in his face, "you're drunk."

"I'm sorry," Ian said earnestly, "Bad night."

"Clearly." Mickey wrapped Ian's arm around his shoulder to help steady him and walked him into  
the bedroom. He let him go into the bed and Ian flopped back with a sigh.  
Mickey bent down to take off Ian's boots, unlacing them slowly as he tried to decide what to say.  
Ian rarely drank anymore. He stole a sip of Mickey's beer occasionally and drank that one fruity  
ass drink at brunch, but other than that... nothing. He didn't want it to threaten his recovery. He  
had come so far. They had come so far. He pulled his boots off and then his socks.

"M'not in the mood, Mick, sorry," Ian slurred as Mickey pulled down his warmups.

"Shhh," Mickey hushed him as he continued to remove his clothes, "I know." After removing  
Ian's hoodie he rested his hand on his cheek gently, "Why didn't you call me? Would've come and  
got you."

Ian's green eyes looked vacant as he stared up past Mickey. "Couldn't."

"Could," Mickey disagreed passing his thumb over Ian's bottom lip. "What's going on?"

"M'cold," Ian drawled lifting his arms up like a child asking for a hug.

Mickey sunk down onto Ian, allowing the redhead to wrap his arms around his neck as Mickey  
tucked his hands under Ian's shoulder blades and let his weight rest heavy on him. Mickey's head  
was on the Ian's shoulder face turned to look at Ian who was focused on the ceiling. "Look at  
me," Mickey ordered softly.

Ian turned his head so his face was just inches from Mickey's. He looked so sad.

"What happened?"

"Just hold me," Ian insisted closing his eyes and sighing as he felt Mickey's right hand shimmy out  
from under him and find his hair. Mickey's fingers lightly massaged his head causing Ian's breath  
to calm and even.

They laid like that for a while, Ian's heart beating rhythmically against Mickey's chest, slowing to  
a relaxed pace.

Ian raspy voice broke through the serenity in the room, immediately startling Mickey who had  
drifted to sleep. "Do you love me?"

"What?" Mickey lifted his head off Ian's chest and narrowed his eyes into his boyfriend's. "What  
did you do Ian?" Mickey could feel his chest tightening with anxiety. Ian closed his eyes to avoid  
the intensity of Mickey's gaze. "Ian..."

"You never tell me you love me," Ian continued letting his eyes flutter open. They were wet and  
looking at Mickey full of pain, "Is this how it felt for all those years..." he paused swallowing  
hard, "when I didn't say it back?"

"I don't know," Mickey stated honestly, creasing his eyebrows unsure of how to respond. "I do..."

"You do what?" Ian pressed, licking his lips subconsciously in anticipation.

"Fuck," Mickey breathed rolling off of Ian so he was laying flat on the bed next to him. "You're  
drunk, man."

"I am," Ian confirmed. "I fucked up."

"What did you do?" Mickey questions, steeling himself for Ian's response. He could feel his fists  
clenching into tight balls.

"Too many shots."

"No shit. Why?"

"Can we talk about it tomorrow?" Ian asked reaching his hand out to loosen one of Mickey's and  
intertwine their fingers.

"Did you fucking cheat on me, Ian?" His voice was wavering, terrified of the response. His blue  
eyes searched Ian's profile for an answer.

"What? No!" Ian exclaimed surprised turning his face quickly so he was looking back at Mickey,

"Fuck" he sighed, "No." He squeezed Mickey's hand and leaned over closing the space between  
them so that he could press his lips against Mickey's. He felt his boyfriend's tension exhale into his  
mouth as their tongues found each other.

Mickey was overcome with relief and taken by Ian's passion. Kissing Ian was like a contact high.  
He wondered idly if it was possible to get drunk off of his boyfriend's mouth. The longer they  
kissed the dizzier and lighter he became, lost in the moment, intoxicated by love. They had shared  
thousands of kisses and they never stopped being overwhelming.  
Ian was just so amorous, grabbing the back of Mickey's head so he could pull him impossibly  
close. And just like that Mickey was so fucking gone. He rolled over pushing his boyfriend's  
shoulders back onto the bed, still keeping their lips connected. He reached down to feel Ian's hard  
cock straining his boxer briefs. "Thought you weren't in the mood," Mickey panted as Ian worked  
his lips down to Mickey's neck causing the brunet to moan. "Feels like you are."

"You want it..." Ian breathed hotly against Mickey's skin. "Take it."

"Shit," Mickey groaned feeling his cock grow impossibly hard just from Ian's voice. "You sure?"

It wasn't lost on Mickey that his boyfriend was faded and avoiding the conversation that he had  
been trying to have. The fact was, he had prepped himself nice and slow before Ian got home and  
fuck if he didn't need that dick.

"Get yourself off on my cock," Ian directed resting his hands behind his head and looking at  
Mickey expectantly.

"Yeah?" Mickey asked biting his lip and immediately pulling Ian's boxer briefs down.

"Mmmhmm," Ian hummed his approval, hooded eyes fixed on Mickey as he pulled Ian into his  
mouth. He felt his hips involuntarily rolling into Mickey's willing mouth. Mickey responded to the  
the motion by sucking him harder causing Ian to groan with pleasure. He worked him for another  
few moments before pulling his mouth off with a pop and hastily tore off his own clothes.

"Fucking missed you tonight," Mickey said opening the lube, squirting it into his palm and  
beginning to jerk Ian. "Should've come to the club."

"Needed you," Ian admitted his leg beginning to shake in anticipation.

"Ian," Mickey sighed suddenly more worried about his boyfriend's mind than his body. He moved  
up on him and put his lube free hand on Ian's cheek tenderly. "What is it?"

"Mickey," His tone was full of warning, his eyes full of fire, "Fucking ride me."

Mickey clicked his tongue and moved back down Ian's body. He carefully lined his ass up with  
Ian's cock and sunk down on him slowly, shimmying his hips as he did to make room. The both  
moaned as Mickey bottomed out. Mickey started rolling his hips with a steady rhythm causing Ian  
to throw his head back in pleasure. "Like that?" Mickey asked raising his eyebrows and smirking  
at his boyfriend's quivering lip. Ian reached his hands down and gripped Mickey's ass pulling him  
forward so he could demand that he fuck him harder. "Ah, I see what you want," Mickey flirted  
with a gleam in his eyes. He put his palms flat against Ian's chest leaning down so he could get the  
right angle to twerk his ass back on Ian's cock.

"Fuck," Ian gasped as Mickey fucked him hard. "Holy shit."

Mickey kept up a rapid pace for an inhumanely long time until his thighs began to burn and he  
was forced to slow down.

As soon as Ian felt the lag he threw his arms around Mickey's lower back and tossed him down  
onto the bed. Their bodies were still connected as Ian hovered over his boyfriend.

"Gonna fuck the hell out of you," Ian informed him, placing both of his big hands on Mickey's  
shoulders and pushing down so that he could pull Mickey onto him closer. Mickey groaned his  
appreciation and wrapped his legs around Ian's waist. It didn't take Ian long to start pounding into  
him causing Mickey to grab up around his back and dig his fingernails in. Ian was drunk but not  
the sensation of nails ripping into his skin was enough to sober him momentarily. "No marks," he  
warned through broken breaths.

"Your boyfriend gonna get mad?" Mickey asked wryly loosening his grip.

"Shhh" Ian hushed moving his hands down to Mickey's hips, gripping into his bones and  
continuing to ram him.

"I'm close," Mickey gasped as Ian repeatedly hit his prostate. He was starting to lose control and  
howl out moans. Mickey dropped his hand cock and started to jerk himself off frantically.

"Cum," Ian prompted.

On command Mickey an "Oooohhhh" and came hard several times over his own stomach.

"Shit that was a lot," Ian gasped eyes wide with astonishment.

"Told you I fucking missed you," Mickey said with a sated grin.

Chapter Eleven: Love

Ian was roused from his slumber by a soft tickle on his shoulder and arms wrapped protectively  
around his waist. His head was pounding but Mickey's lips continuing to gently kiss his bare skin  
made the pain more bearable.

"It's 10:30," Mickey informed him, voice low, well aware that his boyfriend was going to be  
hungover as hell, "I gotta get to work."

"I feel like shit," Ian rasped, mouth dry. Mickey's full lips were on the back of his neck now and  
he pulled one of his arms back to he could scratch Ian's back soothingly.

"That's what you get, man," Mickey stated pointedly, but his actions were anything but harsh. His  
rough tattooed hands were careful as they caressed Ian's body, attempting to even partially  
alleviate his discomfort, "Made you coffee and eggs, but you gotta get up and get it. Not doing  
that breakfast in bed shit."

"Thanks," Ian murmured, "that was nice."

"I'm a nice guy," Mickey said with a sarcastic laugh, biting Ian's shoulder playfully. "Everyone  
says that about me."

"To me you are," Ian responded, in a serious tone, "So good to me." He was trying to focus on  
the wall in his visual line, but it kept moving. He closed his eyes tight. He hadn't drank that much  
on his new dose of medication, and he knew it had been for good reason. Never again.

Mickey's left hand moved up to Ian's hair and he aimlessly raked his fingers through the red locks,

"Cause I love you," He said earnestly, as if it was obvious. As though it hadn't been 8.5 years  
since his mouth had allowed those words to escape it.

Ian felt all the air exhale out of his lungs. He turned over abruptly to face Mickey, "You what?"

He questioned. The world had stopped spinning. The dizziness that he had felt moments earlier  
subsided as soon as he focused on the honest puddles of blue looking back at him.

"You know I've always fucking loved you, Gallagher. Never stopped," He paused in awe of the  
thought that presented itself in his mind. The sheer gravity and the implication shaking him to the  
core, "Shit," he punched out a hard sigh, "I've been loving your dumbass for 15 years."

Mickey looked over Ian's beautiful face that was looking more like a cartoon than a painting. His  
mouth was dropped wide open and his eyes were the size of saucers, glazing over with a film of  
moisture. Mickey knew Ian needed to hear those words, but damn if they weren't hard to say. That  
was, until now. Now, they were easy, because they had fallen out; not pondered, careful or  
reserved. Just there. The unwavering, unquestionable, one fucking constant in his life. His forever  
truth. He loved the hell out of Ian Gallagher.

"Don't be such a fag," Mickey chided partially at his boyfriend who looked like he was stuck in  
stone, but mostly at himself for being so dick whipped by the relic in front of him.  
Then there were lips smashed against his, stale alcohol lingering behind them as Ian slid his  
tongue into the brunet's mouth. Mickey kissed him back, relishing in the nostalgic taste of  
shotgunned beers.

Ian pulled back, just far enough for his mouth to have the room to move, nose still pressed against  
Mickey's as they both panted for breath, overwhelmed by the moment, "I love you," Ian told  
Mickey. His tone was demanding; an insistence to be heard and deeply understood, "With  
everything. I love you with every single thing."

Mickey stared into Ian's green eyes for a moment and then smirked, "Seriously, man? The fuck  
does that even mean?" He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Did you really just fuck up this moment?" Ian laughed, reaching around to spank Mickey's  
clothed ass. Ian pressed his lips back against Mickey's and kissed him hard while attempting to  
grab handfuls of that bubble butt he loved so much.

"Gotta go," Mickey said pulling back as soon as he could feel things getting out of control. He  
couldn't be late if he was gonna approach Luca about the waiter job.

"Call out," Ian whined trying to pull Mickey back into bed as he stood up to leave.

"Get your ass outta bed, eat your fucking eggs, and take your meds," Mickey ordered leaning  
back down to quickly peck Ian's lips while dodging the redheads hands that were still attempting  
to drag him down.

"Uggghhhhhh," Ian groused throwing himself back on the bed. Suddenly he felt like shit again,

"Don't feel well. Stay and take care of me."

"Did this shit to yourself," Mickey reminded him grabbing lube off the nightstand.  
Ian raised an eyebrow, "You gonna fuck me?"

"No," Mickey scoffed.

"Make love to me?" Ian asked in a sing-songy tone. He dropped his hand down so he could slide  
it under his boxer briefs and stroke his hardening dick.

"Um, no," Mickey replied. He squirted a dime size amount into his palm and slicked it through his  
hair, "Outta gel."

"You just put fucking KY in your hair, Mick," Ian gasped in disbelief.

"So?" Mickey challenged giving Ian his signature 'what the fuck' face, "It's basically the same  
shit."

"Not it's not," Ian disagreed shaking his head vehemently, and then regretting it instantly when he  
felt his stomach flip. "Would you let me fuck you wth gel?"

"How horny am I?" Mickey asked needing the level to give a fair response.

"Fuck," Ian chuckled rubbing his his forehead with mock frustration. "Halfway between last night  
and when you got released."

"Definitely," Mickey said with a confident nod. "Yeah."

Ian grabbed the pillow and buried his face in it. He heard Mickey's laughter and then felt the  
pillow get pulled away.

"What happened last night?" Mickey asked with clear worry in his voice. The vibe of the room  
shifted rapidly, "I need to know. Can't think about it all day. Shit will drive me crazy."

"Got written up. It was dumb," Ian replied glancing down at his hands. He made himself busy  
counting the freckles on his forefinger not able to meet his boyfriend's eyes.

"The fuck.. Why?"

"Dumb shit."

"Ian, I don't have time to fuck around here." Mickey stated clearly agitated.

"For the marks you leave on me," Ian spat out looking up at Mickey.

"You serious?" The brunet asked skeptically.

"Yup."

"That fat motherfuckers jealous," Mickey gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"Doesn't matter, he's my boss," Ian responded. He knew he should tell Mickey about the check,  
but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was embarrassing, and he knew that if he told Mickey he'd  
be over at the club to beat Marty to death. There was no way Ian was going to risk Mickey going  
back to prison.

"Got to you so bad?" Mickey questioned biting his lip. "That you got wasted?"

"I guess," Ian confirmed. It was partially the truth.

"I'll be more careful," Mickey decided giving Ian one last kiss. "But you have to stop fucking me  
so good." He had a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his lips.

"No way," Ian gave him a half grin, "C'mere."

"Can't... gotta go."

He began to walk towards the door but stopped when he heard Ian call out, "Hey Mick..."

He turned to look at Ian.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Ian," Mickey said with a grin knowing the sentiment made his boyfriend's day.  
Ian's smile was big and beaming as he watched Mickey leave.

Chapter Twelve: You Got Me

"Thought I'd be seeing your ass more now that you were slumming it on the South Side," Lip  
chided sitting down on Ian and Mickey's couch. He glanced around the tiny, messy apartment.

"Damn, this place is shittier than mine. Didn't think it was possible."

"Yeah, it kinda sucks. The water pressure's shit and the neighbors are loud as fuck," Ian  
complained sitting down next to Lip and resting his feet on the coffee table.

"How do you go from Theo's to here? Honestly, it must be a fucking shock to your system," Lip  
pulled a joint out from his pocket and lit it. He inhaled deeply and passed it to Ian as he blew the  
smoke out of his mouth.

"I almost feel like those years were just a dream, you know?" Ian replied bringing the joint to his  
lips. He knew he shouldn't smoke. He'd just take one hit. "Feels like I never left the South Side."

"A dream?" Lip questioned raising his eyebrows with amusement, "You regrettin' your choice?"

"What? No," He shook his head for affect. "I fucking love Mickey. Would never regret being  
with him," He paused and refused Lip's pass. "Can't."

"Why?" Lip asked. "Addicts can smoke weed. I do."

"Don't know if you're the best guy to take advice from," Ian mused, "Anyway, Mickey'll kill me."  
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"Shit, fucking pussy," Lip laughed.

Ian grabbed the joint, leaned his head back on the couch and inhaled the pungent smoke, allowing  
it to fill his lungs and calm his mind. "Things are good...they are. It's just an adjustment."

"You went from The Ritz to the shits. I get it, man." Lip responded sympathetically, "but things  
are good with Mickey?"

"Fucking awesome," Ian confirmed with a shit eating grin. He raised his eyebrows and Lip  
scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm serious..."

"Don't need to hear any more," Lip informed his brother shifting uncomfortably.

"Tough shit," Ian shrugged, "The sex is fucking amazing. Better than it ever was before, and it  
was always good. That can't last, right?"

"Last til when?" Lip asked with a wry laugh,"You gonna marry him? You assholes will be lucky  
if you make it til summer. Got any beer?"

"Yeah, in the fridge. And fuck you," Ian said without much malice, "I am gonna marry him."

"Oh yeah? He know that?" Lip asked as he made his way over to grab the drink. He pulled out  
the can, "Natty, really? Even I spring for Coors."

"Um, don't know if you noticed but we're fucking poor. You shouldn't be drinking anyway," Ian  
stated watching as Lip took a sip and scrunched his face up in over exaggerated disgust.

"Can have 16oz a day," Lip informed him sitting back down on the couch.

"Sound just like Frank," Ian pointed out.

"Hey," Lip began,"... fuck off."

Ian watched as Lip gulped down the beer. Mickey was going to be pissed that Lip drank his beer.  
He wasn't looking forward to hearing that rant later.

"So marriage, huh? You guys have been back together for what, a month?"

"Two. Doesn't matter."

"Does Mickey know you're getting married?" Lip laughed shaking his head in disbelief of his  
brothers idealism.

"We haven't talked about it," Ian conceded, "Probably won't be soon, but I'm going to fucking  
marry him. You'll see."

"Maybe you could just keep the date you set with Theo," Lip suggested, "Fucking runaway  
groom."

Ian just rolled his eyes and gave his brother the finger before grabbing the joint back from him.

"You know Fiona's been giving me shit about you not coming by. You need to go over there.  
Can't listen to it anymore." Lip groused.

"It's just weird," Ian replied with a sigh. He wasn't sure when things got that way, but they had.  
Fiona had been pretty negative about his relationship with Theo and Ian always suspected it was  
some sort of jealousy. Now that he was with Mickey, he knew there was no way she was going to  
be supportive. He spent his whole life being influenced by other people's opinions. He wasn't  
interested in dealing with it. "But I'll go."

Ian could hear keys jangling and the door begin to open. He quickly passed the joint back to Lip,  
who was smirking at his sudden panic. "Afraid of daddy, huh?"  
Ian delivered a hard punch to Lip's arm and practically jumped off he couch as soon as Mickey  
entered the apartment.

"Fuck, really?" Mickey groaned at the sight of their visitor. He shrugged off his coat and as soon  
as it was shed, he had Ian's body wrapped around him.

"Hey," Ian said loosening the hug so he could look at Mickey's face. Mickey was biting his lower  
lip. "I'll make it up to you, ok?" He leaned over to nip at Mickey's lip. He tugged it out a bit and  
slid his tongue into the brunet's mouth.

"How're you gonna do that?" Mickey's voice was low and throaty against Ian's lips.

"Gonna ride you tonight," Ian whispered.

Mickey's eyebrows raised instinctively, "Is that right?"

"Mmmhmm," Ian hummed his confirmation before deepening the kiss again.

Lip cleared his throat obnoxiously loud as the two men made out. Instead of breaking away from  
Ian, Mickey grabbed his boyfriend's ass hard with one hand and gave Lip the finger with the  
other.

"Come the fuck on," Lip groaned.

Ian pulled back from the kiss and laughed lightly at Mickey's protest.

"Should fuck him right here," Mickey stated looking at Lip with a challenge in his blue eyes.

"What d'ya think?" He smacked Ian's ass and gave his douchbag brother a nasty smirk.

"Ok, ok," Ian chuckled wiggling away from Mickey who had grabbed him around the waist while  
glaring at Lip.

"That my beer?" Mickey questioned Lip as he reached into the refrigerator to pop open a can for  
himself.

"Yup, thanks. It's shitty," Lip replied with a nod.

"Hmm," Mickey nodded and sat down on a chair. He flicked his nose with his knuckle in  
annoyance before fixing his eyes on Ian who had taken a seat on the couch. "We're celebrating  
tonight, Gallagher."

"Yeah?" Ian questioned, studying Mickey's face for a moment. As soon as the realization hit him,  
he was leaping over Lip's legs to jump into his boyfriend's lap, "You got it?!"

"I got it," Mickey confirmed with a proud grin. Ian immediately started peppering Mickey's face  
with kisses.

"What did you get?" Lip asked.

Ian turned to glance at Lip over his shoulder and inform him, "Waiting job with the catering  
company. It's a good raise."

Mickey nuzzled his face into Ian's neck causing the redhead to laugh.

"You're happy," Ian said squeezing Mickey's cheeks with his fingers and planting a kiss on his  
puckered lips.

"I'm happy," Mickey declared.

"Congrats, man." Lip said sincerely, "Let's hit the Alibi."

"Um, no." Mickey scoffed.

"I'm buying," Lip offered.

Ian looked at Mickey expectantly.

"You're buying the whole night?" Mickey clarified.

"Yeah," Lip promised.

"Let's go," Mickey said patting Ian's ass so he would stand up. "You're not drinking," he  
whispered to Ian, who nodded his confirmation.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Thirteen: Nasty

The last time Ian and Mickey had been together at the Alibi it hadn’t ended well. Ian was hopeful  
that tonight would go much better. For one thing, he wasn’t high as hell off fire cocaine and for  
another, Mickey wasn’t going to be trying to fuck some dirty cop. They were there to celebrate,  
and shit they were going to celebrate. Lip kept good on his promise making sure that Mickey had  
a drink in his hand the whole night. Ian, on the other hand, nursed his one bottle of beer.  
Lip was determined to keep up with Mickey, frequently visiting the new blonde bartender who  
was driving all the regulars crazy. She seemed to be of interest to Lip as well. Ian shook his head  
and hoped that Grace would be able to dodge the Gallagher curse. Were they all fucking cheaters?  
Ian looked at Mickey who had laced his fingers through Ian’s and was smiling dumbly at him and  
knew that he’d never be a cheater again. Nobody could ever be better. There was not one person  
he wanted more.

It was about an hour or so after they had arrived, and several beers for Mickey, when Svetlana  
came swaggering over to them, “You do not say hello?” She chided Mickey, her eyes not leaving  
his. She didn’t so much as glance over at Ian.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Mickey asked raising his eyebrows. “You a fucking ninja  
or some shit?”

“Not ninja, no. Was in the back room. You don’t even ask about me?” Svetlana said  
incredulously, “What are you doing here anyway? You are drunk.”

“That’s good, because I came here to get drunk,” Mickey said with a grin. “We’re celebrating.”

He leaned over and pressed his lips wetly against Ian’s cheek. Svetlana just kept staring forward.

“You can look at me, Svet,” Ian said softly, suddenly wishing he was even half as drunk as his  
boyfriend.

“I prefer not to look at fake,” Svetlana said coolly, eyes still averted from Ian.

“Shiiiit,” Mickey pulled his lips back like he was watching something fall in slow motion and  
didn’t have the reflexes to catch it. “Brutal, Svet.”

Ian just looked down at Mickey’s hand, focusing on the ink of his tattoos and how it contrasted  
with the paleness of his skin. He knew why Svetlana was pissed. He would’ve been angry, too, so  
he decided not to engage. He’d just sit there and wait for her to go away.

“He is asshole,” Svetlana stated. “Why do you celebrate? You homos getting married?”

“A) Leave him the fuck alone. B) I got that promotion I was telling you about,” Mickey informed  
her with a grin. Ian looked up hearing the smile in Mickey’s voice. He didn’t want to miss any of  
those proud smiles.

Out of the side of his eye Mickey noticed Ian’s attention on him and turned so that he could plant  
a kiss on his lips. The action took Ian by surprise. They had been affectionate around Svetlana  
before, but that was years ago in the privacy of their own bubble. Now, things had changed and  
they were sitting in the middle of the fucking Alibi. “We gotta change our Yev shit around. Not  
gonna be able to get off on Sundays. Gonna have to do Tuesday night or some shit.”  
Svetlana bristled “Maybe you see your son more then... without me. You give him dinner a few  
times a week.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Don’t fucking start with me right now, Svet. We’ll talk about it.”

“Good, maybe you give me money for him, too now. You make more money, you pay," She  
gave him a half grin and walked away without another word.

“Fucking bitch,” Mickey grunted. He looked at Ian. “She’ll warm up."  
Ian shrugged. It seemed unlikely.

“You assholes wanna play us in pool,” Lip asked approaching the booth that Ian and Mickey  
were sitting in. He had his arms wrapped around the blonde bartender’s waist. She was evidently  
on a break and Svetlana had taken over the bar.

“We could do that. You ready to lose, you smug prick?” Mickey asked as he stood up and pulled  
Ian with him.

Lip began to rack up the balls as the blonde looked over Ian and Mickey lecherously. “Which  
one’s your brother?” She asked Lip ignoring the fact that the two men standing in front of her  
could both hear and answer.

“Ginger,” Lip responded between his lips as he held his cigarette in his mouth.

“Hmmm,” She hummed with a smirk. “Do you guys like, swing both ways? Ever open up the  
bedroom door to new experiences?”

Mickey gave her the most disgusted look he could muster and Ian tried not to laugh.

“They’re gay as fuck,” Lip called over to her, “You're stuck with me, sweetheart.”

“Could think of worse people to be stuck with,” She flirted walking over to slip her arms over  
Lip's shoulders.

“Fucking nasty,” Mickey whispered to Ian. “Not even good nasty.”

“Good nasty?” Ian questioned with a smile.

“Like you, you’re good nasty,” Mickey said flicking his eyebrows up and wrapping his arms  
around Ian’s waist.

“Yeah?” Ian asked hotly staring down at his boyfriend’s lips.

“Mmmhmm,” Mickey responded leaning in to rest his lips against Ian’s. Ian was surprised when  
the kiss didn’t stop at a small peck. Mickey was comfortable being "out" in public, but he typically  
didn’t get super sexual about it. This was sexual; all tongues and want.

Mickey’s attention didn’t stop there. As the night carried on, Mickey grew increasingly bold with  
the kisses and touches. He was all over Ian and though Lip was complaining, Ian was not. At one  
point while Lip was taking his turn and Ian was sitting watching his brother, Mickey had kicked  
Ian’s feet apart and leaned into his body so closely that Ian could feel his boyfriend’s hard on  
pressing against him. As Mickey kissed him slowly, Ian’s eyes flashed towards Svetlana who  
quickly turned away, shaking her head. It seemed nobody but him was into drunk, touchy–feely  
Mickey.

*

They kissed their way into the apartment, stripping their clothes off as quickly as possible. “Need  
you,” Mickey demanded into Ian’s mouth, “Want you to give it to me good. Make it fucking  
nasty.”

“You don’t know how hard I’ve been for you all night,” Ian stated pushing Mickey back on their  
bed. “Actually, maybe you do,” He laughed grabbing the lube off the night stand, “You were all  
over my cock.”

“Can’t help myself,” Mickey hummed as his boyfriend slicked up three of his digits and slowly  
fingered open his hole, adding one finger at a time until he was ready. Ian bent him over on the  
bed and kinked one of his boyfriend’s legs up so he was in a runner’s lunge, “Nasty, right?” he  
asked wrapping his fist around his hard dick and slapping it against Mickey’s hole a few times.

Mickey smirked and reached back to knead his balls trying to release a bit of the tension had been  
building. “Real fucking dir...,” He began but his words were cut short by Ian pushing deep into  
him with one thrust. It caused him to turn his head to the side and hiss fretfully at the burn,

“Motherfuuucker.” He bit hard into his lip and rested his cheek on the bed so that he could look  
back at the man behind him.

“Fuck, you’re too hot, Mick,” Ian rasped his eyes burning into his boyfriend’s. Mickey’s eyes  
were blazing with lust back at him, but his face was soft and needy.

“Please…” Mickey whispered reaching back to tap on Ian’s thigh, urging him to move.

“Please what, baby?” Ian asked lifting his eyebrows mischievously. He swayed his hips slightly in  
an effort to make his boyfriend lose his mind. If Mickey’s distressed moan and fingers digging into  
Ian’s skin were any indication, it was working.

“Please…move,” Mickey pleaded rolling his hips back trying to fuck himself on Ian’s cock.

“Uh, uh,” Ian tsked pushing his hands hard into Mickey’s hip bones so he could hold him still.  
The brunet buried his face into the bed and growled in frustration. Ian was getting off on the  
power. He loved when he made Mickey beg. There was something incredibly sexy about his  
tough-as-nails, stubborn-as-shit boyfriend so desperate for him, falling apart under him. “Gotta ask  
me nicely.”

“Fuck you, Gallagher,” Mickey snapped angrily, too drunk and horny to deal with his boyfriend’s  
fucking games. He pushed up on his elbows and attempted to army crawl away from the  
redhead’s strong hold.

“Hey, hey, don’t…,” Ian soothed loosening his grip but not letting Mickey go completely. He was  
pretty sure if he freed him, his boyfriend would hop off his cock and beat the shit out of him. He  
knew from the venom behind Mickey’s words that he had pushed him too far. “I’m sorry…” He  
started to slowly fuck Mickey’s ass, pushing in and out, trying to bring down his boyfriend’s  
defenses.

“Mmm,” Mickey hummed in appreciation, “'M too horny for you to fuck with me like that…” he  
stated half apologetically, evidently much calmer now that Ian was fucking him.

“I should’ve known from the fact that you were trying to ride me in the Alibi,” Ian replied with a  
smirk, still keeping up his leisurely pace.

“Fuck, off… I did not,” Mickey scoffed, looking over his shoulder at Ian with his face scrunched  
up in disapproval.

“Totally did,” Ian confirmed giving him a playfully smack on his ass cheek, “Don’t pretend you’re  
too drunk to remember. Couldn’t keep your hands off of me. It was hot as fuck.”

“Yeah?” Mickey asked his voice breathy, “You like that? When everyone gets to see what you do  
to me?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Ian hummed starting to pick up his pace. He really fucking did. Maybe it was all  
the time they had spent hiding when they were younger, all the secret rendezvous, and Ian’s  
constant craving for more. When Mickey showed him any affection in front of people, even now  
that it was happening more and more often, it caused Ian to buzz with excitement, pride, and love.  
It got him high every fucking time. He knew he’d never stop loving that feeling.

“Still makes me feel like a fag, but I love showing everyone how much I fucking love you,”  
Mickey admitted. It was as if time stood still for Ian. He froze. “The fuck Ian?!” Mickey huffed  
out his protest, looking over his shoulder once again at his boyfriend who was standing there idly  
filling him.

“Shit,” Ian breathed out, awestruck by Mickey’s comment. He had chalked up his boyfriend’s  
grabby behavior to hormones, not emotions. He thought Mickey was all over him despite the other  
people’s attention, not because of it. Had they really made it the point where Mickey wanted to  
claim Ian regardless of who was watching? Maybe they’d been there for a while, but hearing  
Mickey say it made everything feel really fucking real. A million thoughts ran through the  
redhead’s mind, the most prevalent of them being… marriage. He had mentioned it to Lip earlier  
and fuck, it had been on his mind, but he never actually knew if Mickey would go for it. Could  
they have a fucking wedding? Could that really happen? Would Mickey seriously stand in front of  
people and fucking promise his life to Ian?

“Ian, I’m not even fucking kidding!” Mickey exclaimed tearing Ian away from his thoughts, “This  
is the worst fuck I’ve ever had in my goddamn life.”

“Ok, ok,” Ian said getting himself back into the game. He took a deep breath trying to refocus,

“Gonna fuck the hell out of you, you want that?”

“Fucking YES!” Mickey grunted absolutely exasperated.

The next thing he knew Ian’s body was crouched over his, chest laying flank against his back. Ian  
let go of one of his hip bones and wrapped his arm to the front of Mickey’s body so that he could  
grab around his neck as he pounded into him, “Like this?” He punched out, breath ragged as he  
rammed his boyfriend’s ass fast and hard.

“Ahhh fuck… yes… yes… yeah,” Mickey moaned overwhelmed by the mixture of sensations.  
Ian’s body felt heavy on his, his hand strong around his neck, squeezing just hard enough for  
Mickey’s pants to get him lightheaded, and that cock was stretching him in the most delicious  
way. By the time Ian started jabbing at his prostate, Mickey was seeing stars losing himself in the  
ecstasy of moment.

Under Ian’s weight and force, Mickey dropped off of his hands and knees and grabbed onto the  
comforter, hands tangled in the cotton trying to brace himself. His cheek was resting on the bed  
and his mouth was hanging agape from intensity. Ian took it as an open invitation and leaned over  
to ram his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth for a messy, aggressive kiss. Mickey was keening as  
he attempted to keep up with the kiss and stop himself from cumming all over the bed. The friction  
he was getting in the front and the assault in the back would be enough to push him over the edge,  
and he didn’t fucking want it to stop.

“Change positions, change positions,” Mickey demanded frantically.

Ian removed his hand from Mickey’s neck and pulled out of his ass slowly. Mickey readjusted and  
laid back, resting his head on the pillow. He grabbed behind his knees so that Ian could slide back  
in. As Ian lined up and pushed into Mickey’s tightness he admired how gorgeous his boyfriend  
was with his cheeks flushed pink, lips full, puffy, and well kissed. He started to thrust in short,  
hard jabs, eliciting a whimper from Mickey’s lips with each one. Ian’s feral grunting, and the  
chorus of skin slapping added to the cacophony of unholy sounds filling the room.  
Mickey dropped one of his hands down to his cock and allowed Ian to pull him forward so that he  
could drape the shorter man’s legs over his shoulders. The new angle left Mickey feeling like Ian  
was going to fuck him in half, each push was deep as hell and Mickey was struggling to have  
enough leverage to stroke his dick properly. He was getting some good friction between Ian’s abs  
and his own but he didn’t know if it would be enough.

As usual Ian was in his fucking brain, and practically growled, “Let go, I’ll make you cum.”  
Mickey obliged, trusting his boyfriend’s skills and dug his fingers into his shoulders as Ian  
continued to work him.

“Not so hard,” Ian reminded Mickey, causing the brunet to loosen his grip slightly. Ian loved  
when Mickey was rough with him, but he couldn’t afford to lose his job.

“Harder,” Mickey retorted licking his lips, clearly referencing another action.

Ian grinned down at him mischievously, never ceasing to be amazed by how well Mickey took  
cock. He leaned over and kissed his boyfriend passionately, knowing that if he tried to do it a  
minute later he’d crack both of their noses from the motion.

He bit at Mickey’s lip, pulling it forward a bit before releasing it and adjusting himself in  
preparation.

Ian started slow, but quickly worked himself up to an absolutely maniacal pace one hand pushing  
down on Mickey’s shoulder, the other taking that same spot around his neck.

“Holy.. fucking… shit,” Mickey’s voice was reverberating from the motion, his eyes rolling back  
in his head as he let out nasty moans of pleasure. It was the loudest Ian had ever heard him.  
Mickey was absolutely losing his mind and it was the hottest fucking thing the redhead had ever  
seen.

“Think you can…” Ian began, but was immediately cut off by Mickey’s demand of “hard.” Ian  
honestly didn’t know if he could fuck the guy any harder than he was. He angled himself so he  
was ramming against Mickey’s prostate and his boyfriend was a goner. Hot streams of cum shot  
between their bodies as Mickey screamed with his release. Ian wasn’t far behind, and with just  
two more pumps he was dumping his load deep into the brunet’s body. Ian practically threw  
Mickey’s legs off of his shoulders, lightheaded from the exertion. He rolled off of Mickey so that  
he could lay on his back and try to catch his breath.

“You ok?” Mickey asked with a soft laugh. "You still owe me a riding, remember?"

“You’re going to be the death of me, Mickey Milkovich,” He replied panting for air.

Chapter Fourteen: For You

It had been a few weeks since he had seen Svetlana at the Alibi, and they hadn't pinned down a  
time to get together. They both worked often and Mickey wasn't ready to be with Yev without a  
buffer. Svet had suggested that he go over to the house and hang out with Yev, Kev, V and the  
twins, but Mickey had adamantly refused. The idea of being in that house with all of them seemed  
like a strange form of torture.

The waiting job had been going well, and his pay checks were much meatier than they had been  
when he was bussing. He found himself debating whether or not he should hand the money he  
had saved for his tattoo removal over to Svetlana. It was more important to take care of his kid the  
best he could, than try to erase the embarrassment of his past.

Still, every time he looked at that script on his chest he felt an immense amount of shame. He  
needed it gone. He walked over to underwear drawer and pulled out the folded white envelope he  
had shoved under a stack of boxers he never wore. He opened it and counted the bills: $180. At  
this rate, it would take him a few years to afford removal. He could go and get it covered up, but  
he had no idea what the fuck be would get over it. He didn’t want to get some other piece of shit  
that he’d hate. He counted out $100 and shoved the cash into his wallet. He'd give it to Svet for  
the kid.

It was almost spring. Maybe Svetlana would use the money to get Yev onto a baseball team or  
something. He grinned to himself, thinking that he wouldn't mind seeing the kid play sometime.

"Mickey!" Ian called from the other room. When he didn't get an immediate response, he tried  
again, "Mikhailo!!”

Mickey returned the envelope to its place in the drawer and shoved his wallet into his back pocket  
before exiting the bedroom.

"I know this place is huge, man, but if you need me you could always throw on your fucking  
hiking gear and walk the two feet into the bedroom," Mickey snarked.

"I made dinner," Ian stated ignoring Mickey's statement and placing two plates on the small two-seater table that between the living room and kitchen.

"Oh, thanks," Mickey said grazing Ian's lips with his own before sitting down in front of the plate  
of eggs, bacon and toast. It was their go to dinner; cheap and filling.

"You look really hot. Is that my shirt?" Ian asked admiring his boyfriend in a green plaid flannel  
and jeans.

"Mmm," Mickey hummed with a shrug, "I think so."

"And you're just gonna wear it, huh?" Ian questioned with a grin. If he was being honest, he loved  
seeing Mickey in his clothes.

"Looks like it," Mickey confirmed. "Had to roll up the sleeves cause you got long orangutan  
arms." He was biting into a piece of toast but Ian could see the corners of his mouth turning up.

"Looks good like that," Ian said licking his lips appreciatively.

"C'mere," Mickey coaxed dropping his fork and grabbing Ian's neck so he could pull him in  
closer, crashing their lips together.

Ian reciprocated letting his tongue tangle with Mickey's for a few turns before he disconnected,  
"Have to finish eating. Gotta go soon." He took a bite of his eggs and grinned at Mickey's pouty  
face. He was pretty sure his boyfriend didn't even realize his lower lip was sagging. "You're so  
cute."

"Cute?" Mickey scoffed raising his eyebrows, "I ain't fucking cute. You know you can't lick your  
lips like that."

"Like what?" Ian asked feigning ignorance. His eyes were fixed on Mickey’s as he purposely  
licked his lips again.

Mickey laughed and shook his head, "Stop it. Makes me want to destroy you.”

"We can get into some destruction after I'm done work," Ian flirted running his foot against  
Mickey's calf.

"Fucking footsie fag," Mickey teased with an eye roll.

"You gonna stop by? You haven't come in a while."

"Came this morning," Mickey reminded him, "Your mouth, my cock."

"You know what I mean. Is there a reason why you're avoiding the club?" Ian pressed studying  
his boyfriend's face. It has been over a month since Mickey had come to see Ian at work. Sure,  
Mickey had a pretty busy work schedule, but there were a bunch of nights he was free and didn't  
show.

“I’m not,” Mickey lied. He had been avoiding the club. He couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He  
used to be able to push through, but seeing Ian flirt with other guys, grinding his body all over  
them, it was too much. That smile was his. That body was his. Ian was his. But he couldn’t do shit  
about it. They needed the cash and Ian made good money there.

“Mmmhmm,” Ian nodded clearly not believing his boyfriend’s denial, “You know none of those  
guys…” Ian began, but was cut off by Mickey.

“Fuck, I know that, Gallagher,” Mickey snapped letting his fork fall out of his hands to his plate  
with a loud clank. He dropped his head and rubbed his eyebrows with his fingers, attempting to  
calm himself down.

“Shit, Mick,” Ian breathed getting up from his seat and climbing onto Mickey’s lap. He put his  
fingers on Mickey’s chin so he could tilt his face up and look into his eyes, “I know it sucks.”  
Mickey didn’t say anything, just focused his blues on Ian’s greens while gnawing a bit on his  
bottom lip, “Don’t make me bite that lip for you…” Ian flirted with a little smirk. He leaned in and  
started to nip mischievously at his boyfriend’s pouty lip, “I love you. Only you. You know that.”

“I know that,” Mickey confirmed. Ian let go of Mickey’s lip and decided to stick out his tongue  
and lick a wet stripe up Mickey’s cheek, “Fucking gross, Firecrotch,” Mickey spat shoving Ian off  
of him playfully and laughing as his lanky body fell to the ground, “You gotta stop trying to make  
this licking shit happen.”

“You taste so good,” Ian smirked.

“I do, huh? Since you’re down there, why don’t you suck this dick?” Mickey lifted his eyebrows  
and began to unbutton his pants.

“Can’t.. gotta go,” Ian said jumping up and shoving a piece of toast in his mouth before heading  
over to grab his coat and throw it on, “Come by tonight and I’ll give it to you good.” He winked  
at his boyfriend.

“Goin’ to the Alibi with Iggy,” Mickey said eyeing amazing Ian’s ass looked in his sweatpants as  
he leaned over to put on his sneakers.

“Bring him,” Ian responded with a laugh, “He made you come watch Selena shake her tits.”

“Yeah, that would never fucking happen,” Mickey scoffed.  
Ian shrugged and gave Mickey that look. The one that made Mickey fucking melt and want to  
give the dumbass redhead the moon, stars, sun and the whole fucking universe. “I really want you  
to come, Mick.”

It took Mickey a split second to make his decision. "Ok, I’ll be there then.”

Ian smiled widely, “I love you.”

“Love you, too, asshole. I’ll see you soon, ok?”

*

Mickey walked into the Alibi and was immediately greeted by the blonde bartender, “Hey there,  
handsome!” She said with a flirty grin as Mickey approached the bar, “What can I get for you?  
Anything you’re in the mood for? I’m willing to do anything to satisfy your… cravings.”

“Old Style, and I’m still fucking gay,” Mickey responded with a glare.

“You and your boyfriend are REALLY cute,” She said ignoring the dirty look that clearly  
indicated that Mickey wasn’t interested in small talk. “How long have you been together?”

“They’ve been together at least 57 years,” Kev joked while wiping down the bar. “Hey Tammy,  
go check on the burgers, ok?” The blonde slid Mickey his beer and then nodded at her boss before  
walking away, making sure to wiggle her ass as she went.

“She’s real fucking annoying,” Mickey griped taking a swig of his beer.

“I know, but the guys like her, so…” Kev shrugged, “Svet’s pissed at you.”

“What else is new?” Mickey asked knuckling his nose and rolling his eyes, “She here?”

“Yeah, working on the books. Go back there.”

Mickey held up his beer, “Two more of these and I’ll go back there.”

Kev nodded with a grin, “Try having two of them.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Mickey said shaking his head in disbelief, “I can barely handle Ian.”

“Oh yeah, old boy wearin’ you out?” Kev teased.

“Fuck off, I’m good there, believe that. Just, emotionally and shit. Like any relationship I guess,”  
Mickey replied. He grunted his ‘hey’ to Iggy who had sidled up to the bar.

“He trying to wifed up? Get a ring?” Kev asked sliding Iggy a Budweiser. Iggy looked at Mickey,  
expectantly, awaiting his answer as well.

“He’s a dude. Ain’t ever gonna be a wife,” Mickey grimaced. He knew Kev didn’t mean anything  
by it, but the idea of marrying Ian and how fucking gay it would look to everyone else, still  
bristled Mickey. He loved Ian, he didn’t give a shit who knew that, but exchanging rings and  
fucking slow dancing in front of people. That shit was NEVER going to happen.

“Don’t get salty, sweetie,” Kev teased, “You know I don’t give a fuck. Just giving you shit.”  
Mickey nodded.

“He pressuring you?” Iggy asked with a knowing look.

“What? No. How the fuck did this become about me?” Mickey groused, “I’m gonna go talk to  
Svet.” He left the two guys to talk about their woman problems and headed to the back room. He  
found Svetlana sitting at the desk, pouring over papers.

“Hey.”

“Nothing to say to you. You make my life difficult and it annoys me.” She stated not looking up at  
Mickey.

“Got money for you, for Yev,” Mickey said pulling the small stack of 20’s out of his wallet and  
dropping them on the desk.

“Like you slightly better,” She looked up at him with a half grin.

“Maybe use it to get him into baseball or something,” Mickey suggested uncomfortably, “He may  
like it. I did.”

“This is boring American sport,” Svetlana complained, shaking her head. She saw Mickey’s face  
drop and sighed, “but I guess he can try.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Mickey assured her with a careless shrug, but that was a lie and they both  
knew it.

“You work tomorrow night?” She asked him.

Mickey shook his head.

“We get dinner then. Sam’s.”

“Alright,” Mickey agreed, “I’m gonna bring Ian.”

“No you fucking won’t,” Svetlana snapped, “This will not happen.”

“Svet, I’m with him,” Mickey protested, “Ian’s been bringing it up and Yev’s gonna meet him  
someday.”

“Meet him?” Svetlana shrilled with a wry laugh, “Do you forget that Ian knew him, like Ian  
forgets he knew him?” She shook her head, “When you go away, so does Ian. No more baby in  
his life. He turned his back on Yev. Went and got himself rich and didn’t help with the baby that  
he said that he loved.”

Mickey didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t wrong, but Yev hadn’t been Ian’s responsibility. He  
was Mickey’s. “He’s coming. Sam’s. 6:30.”

“Fuck you and the orange asshole,” Svet said rolling her eyes, “We will be there, but we will not  
like it.”

“Don’t fucking speak for the kid. You’re not gonna poison him against Ian. Won’t be good for  
anyone. You want fuck him up?”

“You are his father. He is already fucked up,” Svetlana stated with icy glare.

“Aren’t we all?” Mickey shot back with a shrug, “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Svetlana confirmed looking back down at her books.

Chapter Fifteen: Already Know

"Excuse me," a guy began as Ian chugged a water bottle at Tim's bar. He had just finished his  
rotation on the platform and was about to head into the lounge.

Ian turned towards him and gave him a sly grin, "Why am I excusing you?" The flirt, the game.

The guy was well dressed and a little older than Ian. He could tell he had money. Working at the  
club had given him the skill of assessing a person's income pretty accurately.

"You're the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. Can I buy you a drink?" He was nervous. Ian  
could tell he didn't frequent the clubs because offering to buy a dancer a drink was a rookie move.

"Not allowed to drink on the job," Ian replied with a playful pout, "but I could give you a dance."

"Yeah?" The guy asked his face lighting up.

"Dude, don't fall for it, he's gonna charge you," A voice called out cutting into Ian's pitch. Ian  
turned his head and saw Jake walking towards them, "Besides he's got a boyfriend," he stated  
draping his arm around his friend's shoulders, "You do have a boyfriend, right, Ian? It's been a  
few months... figure you got your claws into him by now."

"He's right," Ian confirmed looking at Jake's confused friend, "I have a PARTNER. We live  
together. It's pretty serious."

"Wow," Jake scoffed shaking his head in disbelief, "That was fast."

"I mean, it was inevitable, right?" Ian said with a shrug, "You knew it. He knew it. I knew it."

"This is... really fucking awkward," the friend said breaking away from Jake and walking away  
from the tension, "I'll see you back at the table," he called over his shoulder.

Jake nodded before turning his attention back to Ian, "How long until you break his heart again?"  
His blue eyes were earnest and Ian was almost taken aback by the sadness in them.

"Not going to. I love him," Ian informed him softly. He sort of felt bad for the guy. It had been  
months and he still was clearly not over Mickey.

"You only love yourself," Jake chided, narrowing his eyes with disgust.

Ian felt like he got the wind knocked out of him and before he could muster a reply he felt an arm  
wrap causally around his waist. He looked to his right and saw Mickey standing next to him.

"Hey," he exhaled so happy to see his boyfriend.

"Hey," Mickey said with a slight grin. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Ian's bare shoulder,  
"everything ok?" He asked generally to the two of them.

"Fine," Jake said trying to pull in his hurt so it didn't show on his face, "How are you, Mick?"  
Ian cringed at the familiarity.

"Real good. Got a promotion at the job, so..." he began feeling Ian's eyes glaring into him. He  
wasn't going to fucking rub shit into Jake's face. He was a nice guy and didn't deserve that.

"Everything's good. How are you?"

"Busy, you know, lots of people out there making bad decisions," he stated with a shrug.

Mickey smirked at the statement. Jake had always been a badass. Mickey liked that. He was glad  
he was still giving him shit, even if he was fucking wrong.

"Red, lounge... now," Marty ordered as he walked past the standoff.

"Fuck," Ian groaned. He didn't want to leave Mickey and Jake there without him. He trusted  
Mickey, but fuck his ex was good looking. "I gotta..."

Mickey nodded noticing Ian's boss' eyes fixed on his boyfriend. "Go."

Mickey watched as his Ian walked towards the lounge looking over his shoulder a few times  
before he disappeared.

"So living together, huh?" Jake asked taking a sip of his drink, "pretty serious then?"

Mickey nodded, "Mmm, yeah. Are you, you know, dating anyone?"

Jake clicked his tongue, "Eh, not really. The last guy I was with fucked me up pretty good."

"Sounds like a dick," Mickey said biting at his nail bed uncomfortably.

"He wasn't. That's what sucks. He was pretty fucking great," Jake's gorgeous eyes were boring  
into his and Mickey felt a wave of sadness pass over him.

Mickey stood there in silence not sure what to say.

"You happy?" Jake asked quietly, almost inaudible against the booming bass filling the room.

"I am," Mickey confirmed.

Jake nodded, "He's gonna fucking cheat on you, man. You know that, right?"

"No," Mickey protested shaking his head, "You don't fucking know him, ok?"

"I know enough," Jake responded, "I read people for a living, remember Mick?"

"Wrong about this."

"I hope so," Jake replied with a shrug, "I'll see you around." And off he went leaving Mickey  
reeling.

"Shit," Mickey sighed rubbing the back of his neck, as his mind spun. He turned to order a drink  
but found Tim sliding a shot glass full of clear liquor his way.

"Looked fucking brutal," the bartender said sympathetically.

Mickey muttered his "thanks" and threw the shot down his throat.

"In other news, you pull some insanely hot ass," Tim stated lifting his eyebrows for affect.

Mickey smiled and and let out a short laugh, "Fuck off, Moe." It was true.

After taking another shot he made his way to the lounge. As soon as Ian caught sight of him, he  
wrapped his arms around the shorter man's body, clingy.

"You got any money on you?" Ian asked in a breathy whisper, his lips tickling against Mickey's  
ear.

"Got a couple bucks," Mickey responded feeling his heart start to race. He knew where his  
boyfriend was going with this. He could have Ian whenever he wanted, but he couldn't deny how  
hot it was to get teased from time to time. Not being able to touch and taste him the way he  
wanted to was a tantalizing agony. Plus, Ian was sexy as fuck when he danced. The only dancing  
Mickey got at home was when his boyfriend being goofy here and there to make him laugh.

"Get it ready in case Marty comes by," Ian ordered before pushing Mickey down onto one of the  
couches.

Mickey glanced around the lounge and noticed that most of the eyes in the room were fixed on  
him and Ian. His boyfriend wasn't a stranger to that type of attention, but Mickey was. Before he  
had time to get uncomfortable Ian was straddling him, beginning to roll his hips along with the  
beat of the music that was filling the club.

Lap dances were second nature to Ian. Mickey was pretty sure that his boyfriend was just going  
through the motions, but Ian was so smoking hot that even his slightest movements turned Mickey  
on massively.

Ian smiled down at Mickey devilishly. "You're hard," he remarked beginning to grind down  
against Mickey's bulge. He dropped his hands onto the brunet's shoulders for leverage as he rode  
his lap.

"You're fucking hot," Mickey stated matter-of-factly, his eyes fixed on the outline of his  
boyfriend's cock in those thin, little shorts. "These shorts, Ian..." Mickey knew Ian's dick. He'd  
known it for years, but something about it just covered up enough was driving him fucking crazy.  
Ian moved one of his hands to Mickey's neck and let the other drag down his boyfriend's body.  
He was moving his head side to side to the beat when he caught sight of Jake's icy eyes fixed on  
them. He was sitting at a table with his friends, looking pretty fucking annoyed. Ian made sure he  
locked eyes with the man before turning his attention back to Mickey who was still staring at his  
body, entranced.

Ian's mind flashed back to that night when Jake and Mickey were making out on the dance floor  
right in front of him. It had ripped his fucking heart out. The love of his life was wrapped up in  
another man's arms, his inhibitions dropped, so alive, making Ian feel dead.

"Touch it," Ian rasped sinfully. Mickey's eyes shot up quickly falling into Ian's. The redhead  
licked his lips suggestively and Mickey was fucking gone. He knew they shouldn't and he didn't  
want to get Ian in trouble, but shit he needed him.

Mickey dropped his hand and clutched that impressive girth, eliciting a sigh from his boyfriend's  
lips. Ian dipped his head back in pleasure, arching his back just enough to create an angle that  
obstructed the rooms' view of Mickey's hand slowly jerking his cock over his thin shorts. Ian  
bucked up into the brunet's hand with a moan. He made sure to keep his body moving to the  
music so it would appear that he was just really into the dance and not just really into his  
boyfriend.

"Want you to taste me," Ian said pulling away and standing up. He tried to adjust himself so that  
his erection wasn't so apparent but his attempt was futile considering the shorts were stretched to  
the seams trying to contain it, "Sit back."

Mickey scooted back as far as he could get on the couch, attempting to readjust his pants so that  
they could accommodate the hard on straining against them. "You gotta talk to that fat fuck about  
those shorts, man. I'm not even fucking with you, Ian. Talk to him." He looked around the room  
to see if anyone noticed how obscene Ian looked. From all the stares coming their way, Mickey  
was sure they were well aware.

As soon as Mickey's eyes locked into Jake's, he was seeing green. Literally. Ian had stood up on  
the couch with his feet by Mickey's hips and shoved his green booty shirt clad crotch into his face.  
The redhead gripped his fingers into black hair as he body rolled exaggeratedly so his cock was  
rubbing against Mickey's lips.

Mickey's head was spinning as his boyfriend went Magic Mike on his face. He slid his tongue a  
millimeter past his lips uncertainly and pressed it against the wet spot that had formed on the fabric  
where the tip of Ian's cock was leaking.

The assault on his senses was intoxicating. He could taste the salt of Ian's precum, smell that  
intimate "Ian" scent mixed with the sweat of exertion and feel Ian's hips stuttering under the hands  
Mickey had resting on them. It was fucking overwhelming and Mickey was pretty sure if his  
boyfriend didn't calm the fuck down he was going to jizz in his pants like a teenager.  
Mickey gave Ian's hips a pat, indicating that he needed to back off. He obliged, slinking down so  
that he was sitting on Mickey's lap. They were both panting and staring at each other dangerously.

"Goddam Gallagher. Need to suck your cock," Mickey demanded, "Now."

Ian nodded still trying to catch his breath, "I can take a break in 30."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mickey cried. He was looking at Ian with complete devastation.  
Ian punched out a quick laugh and looked down at his still worked up package, "I gotta get this  
shit down before I stand up."

"Think of the viagroid balls you have to grind on for the next 30 minutes," Mickey suggested, his  
eyes glued on Ian's issue.

"Nah, I know what will turn me off real quick," He turned his head to look at Jake and gave the  
man whose face was flushed red with anger, an impish smirk, "Yup. I'm good."

"You're a fucking dick," Mickey said shaking his head in disbelief.

"You love it," Ian reminded him raising his eyebrows and climbing off of Mickey.

He sort of did.

"I'm next," an older guy said eagerly gesturing for Ian to make his way over to him, "I want what  
he had."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Sixteen: Only this Far

Ian stared at his reflection in the mirror unsure of why he felt so self conscious. Worrying about  
his physical appearance wasn't something that he did often. He tugged at the bottom of the grey  
marled henley wondering if it was too short. Maybe it was Mickey's and it was. "This your shirt?"  
Ian asked as Mickey entered the room, hair still wet from the shower, towel wrapped low around  
his waist.

"No," Mickey said pushing past Ian so he could grab boxer briefs out of his drawer.

"You sure? It feels kinda short. Does it look short?"

"Maybe you're still growing," Mickey suggested with a shrug, "Always grew like a fucking weed.  
One winter you were this freckled little fucker and by the summer you were a fucking beast. I  
swear every time I got locked up you got taller."

"Even this last time? People are supposed to stop growing by 28," Ian huffed pulling the shirt off.  
As he went to grab another shirt from his drawer he caught sight of Mickey's downcast eyes. They  
hardly ever talked about Mickey's most recent stint. The closest they got to discussing it were  
references to his probation. The memories of the circumstances surrounding Mickey's  
incarceration and the subsequent challenges it had on their relationship were still unhealed wounds  
between them.

For the most part, they tried to pretend it all never happened. An 8 year blemish largely ignored. It  
was too difficult, too painful and for Mickey, still too raw. It wasn't as though they hadn't talked  
about it, they had, but neither of them found it particularly helpful to perseverate on the past.

"Sorry," Ian mumbled uncomfortably glancing at Mickey.

"You were taller," Mickey stated ignoring the heaviness that had permeated the room, "After all  
that time, you were a lot taller than I remembered you being."

"Yeah?" Ian asked waking behind his boyfriend so he could massage his shoulders. He focused  
on the spots where Mickey typically held knots.

"I mean, I knew you were tall, but I guess it surprised me. I..." he began but shook his head as  
though he was attempting to swallow down the words.

"You what?" Ian asked softly planting light kisses on Mickey's bare skin.

"I thought of you before I went to sleep... every night," He sighed trying to contain the emotions  
that were threatening to seep out of him: hurt, pain, anger, they were all bubbling just below the  
surface. "We were always laying in bed, when I thought of you. So I forgot, you know, how tall  
you were."

"What we were we doing?" Ian questioned walking around so he was in front of Mickey, leaning  
against the dresser so that he could see his boyfriend's face. "When you thought of us laying  
down..." He raised an eyebrow trying to find any lightness Mickey's demeanor. There wasn't any.

"Wasn't like that. Didn't let myself think of you like that unless I was fucking someone and needed  
to get off fast," Mickey paused and Ian rested his hand on Mickey's cheek tenderly trying to urge  
him on, "You were holding me and shit." Mickey's cheeks burned red with embarrassment and he  
averted his eyes from Ian's.

The statement stripped Ian of his breath and immediately made him dizzy. He needed to sit down.  
He let his hand fall off Mickey's skin and made his way over the bed before his shaky knees gave  
out under him. Mickey's honesty and vulnerability was overwhelming and the guilt Ian felt was  
oppressive. He couldn't even fathom how alone and forgotten Mickey had felt. The fact that Ian  
had a major part in that was almost too much to bear. "I'm sorry," he uttered his eyes glazing over  
with moisture.

"Stop," Mickey urged walking over to join Ian on the bed, "This is why we shouldn't fucking talk  
about it." He ruffled the redhead's hair trying for some levity.

Ian sniffed and punched out a half laugh, half cry, "You fucked up my hair and it took me like 20  
minutes to get it right."

"You're not going on a date with the kid," Mickey reminded him with a grin. He got it and he  
found it pretty endearing that his uber confident boyfriend gave a shit enough to get insecure about  
sitting down for a sandwich with his son. "C'mere," he pulled Ian towards him roughly and  
smashed their lips together. The kiss was full words that couldn't be said and emotions that were  
too repressed to arise in any way except for through their physical connection.

When they pulled apart many moments later Mickey patted Ian's cheek, "Shit's gonna be weird as  
fuck. You'll be ok. We're ok. That's it."

Ian nodded and went back to mentally debating which shirt he should wear.

*

"You're late," Svetlana scolded tapping her watch as Mickey and Ian hurried up to the entry of  
Sam's. It was her typical greeting. She said it even if Mickey was running a minute behind.

"5 fucking minutes," Mickey stated rolling his eyes. He got an elbow in his ribs from Ian. A very  
clear demand that he play nice. "Sorry we're late," He muttered. He turned his attention to Yev,  
who was wearing a Cubs jacket and cap. "New shit?"

Yev nodded, "Yeah, thanks. Mom said you got them for me and that you signed me up to start  
baseball next month."

Mickey bit his lip and gave Svetlana a nod of 'thanks' "You good with that? Giving baseball a  
try?"

Yev shrugged, "Should be alright, I guess."

Ian tried to hold back his grin. The kid was Mickey's for sure.

"Yev, this is Ian, remember I told you about him?" Mickey asked awkwardly. He suddenly felt  
panic overcome him and decided that he should have ignored Ian's requests to meet the kid, at  
least for another few years.

Yev didn't look up at Ian, instead he stood quietly looking down at his untied shoe laces and the  
way they contrasted with the dirty snow laying on the sidewalk. Ian shifted uncomfortably. This  
wasn't going well already.

"Yevvy don't be rude. Say hello to the asshole. He changed your shit diapers when you were  
baby," Svetlana prompted resting her hand on Yevgeny's shoulder. Ian grimaced, holding himself  
back from snapping at Svetlana in front of the kid.

"Hi," Yev mumbled still not looking up.

"Asshole? Really, Svet?" Mickey groused rolling his eyes and pulling open the door. "Let's go."

Dinner was uncomfortable. Svetlana paid more attention to her phone than she did to the  
conversation. Mickey was shit at communicating with the kid and Ian was trying really fucking  
hard, probably too hard. He asked Yev somewhere close to a million questions and got one word  
responses for most. It was actually painful for Mickey to watch. The only saving grace was that  
the kid liked to talk about video games, and Mickey liked to play video games. It was common  
ground that made things a lot more tolerable.

"Was good seeing you," Mickey told Yev as they said their goodbyes. He knocked the bill of his  
son's hat, playfully, "Get bigger every time."

"I'm probably gonna be taller than you soon," Yev teased with a mischievous grin.

"Ain't that hard to get there man," Mickey replied with laugh.  
Ian smiled at the interaction. As usual, Mickey didn't give himself enough credit. He was really  
good with Yev, and the kid was obviously crazy about him.

"It was nice seeing you, Yevgeny," Ian said tentatively, hoping to catch the boy's blue eyes. Yev  
looked up at him and nodded. Progress.

"You know, maybe we can work out a night next week where you can come over to our place  
and play that new Doom game with us," Mickey began, "Ian has it."

"Really?" Yev asked excitedly his face lighting up. "Only Demarco has it and he won't let anyone  
come over and play."

"Demarco is a lying shit. He does not have this game. That's why he does not let anyone over,"  
Svet stated matter-of-factly.

Yev shrugged, "That would be cool though. What day?"

"Gotta work it out. See what nights me and Ian are both off." Mickey replied.

"He doesn't gotta be there," Yev offered, "Could just be me and you."

Ian felt like he had been punched in the gut and rolled his eyes at Svetlana's smirk and utterance of  
"smart boy."

"Nah, it's his game, man. We'll work out a time."

Yev nodded and they all said their goodbyes.

"He hates me," Ian complained as they headed back to their apartment, "and we don't have that  
fucking game."

"He doesn't hate you. Or maybe he does, I don't fucking know. And we'll get the game," Mickey  
stated grabbing Ian's hand and interlocking their fingers. "Should have worn gloves. Why's it cold  
as tits in March?"

"You are from Chicago, right?" Ian teased.

"We gotta move. Somewhere warm. Sit on the beach all day. Never deal with another Chicago  
winter."

"Oh yeah? How are we gonna afford that?" Ian questioned. He was well aware that Mickey was  
attempting to get his mind off the shit show that was dinner and he appreciated the effort. Things  
weren't going to be easy with Yevgeny, but he hoped they'd get to a better place eventually.  
Mickey shrugged, "You keep shaking that Fairy Tail like you did last night and we'll be living  
large. How much you pull on after your little show?"

"$350," Ian said with a grin, "Best night yet."

"Good, buy that video game with some of it, ok?" Mickey asked stopping in his tracks so he could  
light up a cigarette. He passed it to Ian and then lit his own.

Ian nodded his agreement, "Think it'll make him like me more?"

Mickey shrugged, "Fuck if I know. Kids are dumbasses."

"Yours seems pretty smart," Ian remarked, catching the pride that passed over his boyfriend's face.

"Maybe," Mickey said bringing the cigarette to his lips and inhaling deeply.

"Looks just like you, too. Same facial expressions and everything. Even the fucking eyebrows,"

Ian offered with a laugh.

"Poor kid," Mickey deadpanned.

"Lucky kid," Ian corrected him and he meant it, "He's a really fucking lucky kid, Mick."

Mickey looked at Ian out of the side of his eyes not sure what to say. Instead of talking his just  
pulled Ian's hand to his lips and gave his knuckles a sweet kiss.

Chapter Seventeen: No one

Ian let the music pulse through his body as he moved effortlessly to the beat. It was in moments  
like this that he loved his job. He was on the platform, far from customers' grabbing hands and  
lascivious looks. The tips were much better in the lounge, but the work was harder. He had to go  
into the zone and pretend that these random men were turning him on, making him hot. He had to  
flirt and laugh. He had to make them feel wanted when they weren't, at least not by him.  
Working at the club had been simpler when he was high and manic. He didn't want to be either  
but it had made the scene easier to handle. Back then he was excited by afterparties in Northside  
lofts, the attention, and all the temptation that swirled around him. Now, he was unaffected by it  
all.

While he was at work, he was fantasizing about being in his shitty apartment with his boyfriend;  
curled up in bed with him, making Mickey laugh at the stupid jokes that he tried not to laugh at,  
kissing those full lips. Fuck, he was so far gone. He missed Mickey when he was away from him  
for a couple of hours. He never realized that being so content could be so scary. It was a different  
type of fear than he had felt in the past. He had lived without Mickey in his life before. He made it  
through the days and found some semblance of happiness. The idea of losing Mickey now was  
too painful to even consider. For Ian, forever with Mickey wouldn't be long enough.

He looked across the room towards Tim's bar. Mickey was sipping his drink, eyebrows raised at  
something Tim was saying. He placed his glass down, shook his head and laughed. That smile.  
Ian realized he had stopped dancing and began to move again when he felt a tap on his leg. He  
looked down at his coworker Angelo. "Boss man wants you in his office," He reported reaching  
his hand up so Ian could help pull him up to the platform.

"What about?" Ian questioned watching as Angelo began to dance.

The man shrugged, "Hell if I know. He's not in a bad mood though."

Ian jumped off the elevated box and hurried over to Mickey. He knew Marty wasn't on the floor  
so he grabbed Mickey's hair roughly and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Mickey's hands  
reached up to cup Ian's cheeks, instantaneously losing himself in Ian.

Ian was kissing him with an intense hunger, like he hadn't just had him hours before. His  
vehemence caused the blood to drain from Mickey's head and move straight to his dick. He was  
getting harder with every swirl of Ian's tongue. Mickey straddled his legs on either side of the bar  
stool that he was sitting on so that he could grasp onto his boyfriend's hip bones and tug him as  
close as he could get him to his body.

"Damn, Gallagher. What was that for?" Mickey panted after Ian disconnected their mouths a few  
moments later.

"Missed you," Ian replied licking his lip.

"Mmmm," Mickey hummed the blues of his eyes barely visible beyond his blown out pupils.

"That's pretty fucking gay."

"It's true," Ian grinned as Mickey's fingers crept up underneath the seam of his shorts so that he  
could rest his hand on the bare skin of Ian's ass cheek.

"Gonna have this ass tonight..." Mickey informed him biting his bottom lip as he let his eyes travel  
over the deep V cut of Ian's hips and rubbed his ass salaciously.

"That right?" Ian flirted watching as Mickey's eyes drank him in. His boyfriend was looking at his  
body like it was sustenance and he was fucking starving.

"Mmmhmmm," Mickey confirmed. Ian's lips were back on his just resting there as Mickey  
continued his thought, "Gonna do some ass eating, a little nipple pinching, then pound the fuck  
out of you."

"Can't wait," Ian grinned and pulled back, "Gotta go see Marty. I'll be back."  
Mickey nodded reluctantly sliding his hand off of Ian and grabbing his drink. He took a beat to  
admire his boyfriend's posterior as he walked off the floor before turning back to the bar.

"I know this is totally crossing the line," Tim began, causing Mickey to raise his eyebrows  
quizzically in anticipation of what was going to come out of the bartender's mouth, "But you two  
have got to have the most filthy sex. You fuck each other with your eyes better than I've ever been  
fucked in my life."

Mickey stared at the guy like he was a alien, "Shut your fuckin' mouth before I shut it for you,"  
He warned draining his glass, "and for that you owe me another."

Tim grinned and said "Fair," before making Mickey another Jack and Orange on the house.  
Ian rapped gently on Marty's office door. "Come in," his boss's gruff voice called. Ian took a deep  
breath before entering the room. It had been a few weeks since his last "body check" and he  
wasn't looking forward to having that start up again.

"You wanted to see me?" Ian questioned hanging by the door.

"Yeah," Marty said keeping his eyes fixed on whatever he was doing on his computer, "I've been  
impressed with your professionalism as of late, so I'm doing you a favor."

"Oh yeah?" Ian crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.

"Two guys came in this afternoon asking for you. They wanna have a good time tonight and they  
look like big spenders. They'll be here at 11:30pm. Got them booked in VIP 1. Treat 'em right."

"They asked for me by name?" Ian asked tentatively. Something seemed off about that.

"No, they said they wanted 'that hot redhead.' Since you're the only ginger here, I used my power  
of deduction," Marty snarked giving Ian a dirty look. "You think you're fucking famous or  
something? Everyone's moved on from your little scandals."

"Got it," Ian said swallowing his pride. It took everything in his power not to tell the asshole to go  
fuck himself.

"Could've said you didn't do privates and gave it to Angelo or Michael. Don't make me regret my  
generosity," Marty warned dark eyes boring into Ian.

"Thanks," Ian responded softly, "That it?"

Marty nodded, "For now..."

As Ian approached the bar he noticed that Mickey was talking to a guy that was sitting on the stool  
next to him. The guy was hot with his bright red hair, two full sleeves of tattoos and a lip piercing.  
It wasn't the first time that Ian saw a guy flirting with Mickey at the club, but it was the first time  
that Mickey actually looked like he was into the conversation.

Ian could feel jealously course through his veins carrying doubt and insecurity along with it. He  
slid behind Mickey draping his arms over his boyfriend's shoulders and dropped down to press a  
series of kisses onto his neck, not so subtly showing the guy that Mickey was REALLY fucking  
taken.

"Hey," Mickey greeted turning his head so Ian could catch his lips. What Mickey thought would  
be a peck turned into Ian digging for his tonsils. He wasn't complaining, but his boyfriend's  
intentions were pretty transparent. Mickey patted Ian's cheek to indicate the kiss was over and Ian  
pulled off, unraveling his arms from Mickey in the past process. "Ian, this is Alex, Alex, Ian."

"Mickey's boyfriend," Ian added shaking Alex's outstretched hand a little harder than necessary.  
He felt Mickey rest his hand on the small of his back reassuringly. Ian's jealousy wasn't a new  
phenomenon.

"Good to meet you, man," Alex said with a warm smile, seemingly undeterred by Ian's attempts at  
intimidation.

"You don't have to stay, Mick. I have to do a private so I won't be on the floor for the rest of the  
night," Ian informed him reaching up so he could rake his hand through Mickey's hair.  
Mickey frowned, "A private, huh?" He didn't like Ian's job to begin with, but he fucking hated  
when he gave private dances. He knew what Ian's dances used to include: handjobs, blowjobs,  
and if the price was right- fucking. He trusted Ian as much as he could given all that they had been  
through, but this kind of shit wore on him.

"Nothing's gonna happen," Ian assured him quietly, very aware that Alex still had his eyes on  
them.

"I know," Mickey nodded, partially trying to remind himself that things were different now.

"Go home. I'll be there soon," He leaned in to whisper hot in Mickey's ear, "Ready for you to  
fuck me hard."

Mickey turned his head to steal another kiss, "I'll hang out here," he said when they broke apart. It  
was Ian's turn to frown. He didn't want Mickey to be at the bar with Alex all night, "Gotta make  
sure that ass gets home safe," He smirked patting Ian's butt possessively, "Be good, ok?"  
Ian nodded and gave his boyfriend a defeated grin,"You, too." He gave Alex one last glance  
before heading to the dressing room to get ready for his private party.

"Must be tough," Alex remarked looking at Mickey carefully with his steel grey eyes.

"Ain't easy," Mickey admitted rubbing his neck remembering what Ian's lips had felt like on his  
skin just moments earlier.

"You guys are a fucking hot ass couple," Alex complimented not so subtlety looking Mickey  
over, "Like really good looking."

Mickey felt his cheeks flush but didn't say anything in response. Instead he took a healthy swig of  
his drink.

"How long have you been together?"

"Uh, that's complicated," Mickey responded vaguely. It felt cheap to say they'd been together for a  
few months, even though technically, this time around, that's what it had been.

"But you're exclusive? No free passes to fuck around on the side?" Alex prodded, his hopefulness  
obvious.

"No fucking around," Mickey confirmed shifting uncomfortably. The guy had been cool to talk to  
but now he wanted him gone. He bit at his lower lip and turned his attention to he interior of his  
glass.

"I'm quiet about shit, we could hit up the alley, nobody would have to know nothin'" Alex  
suggested.

"Listen, it ain't gonna fucking happen," Mickey snapped shooting his head around to glare into  
Alex's eyes.

Alex threw up his hands in surrender, "I was just tossing it out there. Your dude's pretty. Wasn't  
sure if you needed something rough to shake it up a bit."

"My 'dude' is packing 9 inches and is a fucking animal in the sack. I'm good," Mickey retorted  
pushing away from the bar and gesturing to Tim that he'd be back. He took his carton out of his  
pocket and headed outside into the brisk March night.

Chapter Eighteen: Trouble

Gazing into the mirror, Ian pushed his hair back and assessed his appearance. Winter had been  
brutal with too many days of snow to keep any consistent running schedule. He missed his gym  
membership, but his body didn't show it. In fact, his abs were better than they'd ever been. He  
smiled and ran his finger down the defined muscles. Mickey was good for his body. All the sex  
they'd been having had tightened him up in all the right places. Making up for lost time had been  
fucking amazing.

He couldn't wait to get home. He craved that man. He debated running back out to the bar and  
stealing another kiss, but thought better of it. It would be harder to get into the private dance  
mindset if he got lost in Mickey again. He took a deep breath forcing images of his boyfriend out  
of his mind and headed towards VIP 1 to get this shit over with.

He knocked on the door before pushing it open. He knew the customers were already in there,  
waiting, anticipating. Show time.

"There he is!" A man's voice proclaimed excitedly as Ian entered the room.

Ian gave him a wide smile, not sure if he was supposed to know who the fuck he was. He feigned  
recognition just in case he had met him before. The guy was seriously good looking in his three  
piece suit. He had a George Clooney vibe going on, and Ian was relieved because faking it with  
him would be easier than expected.

"That's him alright," another man confirmed from a chair in the farthest corner of the small room.  
He was around the same age as his companion, dressed just as smartly but less attractive.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" The Clooney lookalike asked as he loosened his tie, sat back on  
the couch, and gave Ian a lecherous look-over.

"Ian," The redhead responded sitting down on the couch next to the older man. He had long since  
abandoned the false sense of anonymity he had when he was 'Curtis.'

"I'm James and this is my partner Dustin," the less attractive man said rubbing the back of his neck  
nervously.

"Partner as in business partner or life partner?" Ian questioned leaning over so he could reach the  
small coffee table in the center of the room. He poured the aged scotch from its bottle bottle, fixing  
the two men their drinks. He handed one to Dustin before walking over to deliver the other to  
James.

"The latter," James responded looking fondly at Dustin.

"Kinky," Ian remarked with a grin. There was no way that he and Mickey would involve another  
guy into any aspect of their relationship. They were both way too possessive for that.

"Do you mind if we..." Dustin asked pulling a small baggie of white powder out of his interior suit  
pocket and holding it up between his fingers.

"Not at all," Ian replied companionably trying not to stare at the seductive drug.

Dustin poured some of the powder onto the table and began to cut a few long lines. "You have a  
boyfriend, Ian?" He questioned as he rolled up a hundred dollar bill and gestured for James to  
come over and blow the first line.

"You're my boyfriends tonight," Ian flirted letting his hand reach up and softly caress Dustin's  
cheek.

The older man gave him a smirk, "That's pretty cute."

"Really cute," James agreed taking the bill out of his partner's hand, leaning over the table and  
snorting up the first line.

Ian licked his lips. He'd be lying if he didn't acknowledge that he really fucking missed the feeling  
of being high.

"We should've lined 'em up on Ian's ass," Dustin tisked after he bumped a line. He open and  
closed his mouth, sniffing exaggeratedly as the drug flooded his head.

"There's always the next hit," James reminded him with a shrug.

Ian hated when people talked about him like he wasn't in the room. It reminded him of all of the  
times that he wasn't in control of his health and his family had lengthy conversations in front of  
him trying to figure out what do with him. For some reason, they didn't realize that Bipolar didn't  
rape him of his auditory faculties.

"So how's this work, Ian?" Dustin asked reaching over to rest his hand on Ian's thigh.

"Did Jared go over the rules with you?" Ian questioned uncomfortably referencing the VIP  
manager. He hated discussing the technical aspects of the transaction. It took everyone out of the  
mood.

"He did," James confirmed sitting on the other side of Ian so they were all on the couch. "We just  
weren't sure if there was more... flexibility."

"I'm a rule follower," Ian began, "but maybe I could make a few exceptions."

"Oh yeah?" Dustin asked raising his eyebrows with interest.

The truth was, he wasn't making any exceptions but the customers didn't need to know that. Jared  
always gave them more restrictive rules so when the dancer did more, the customers would think  
they were special.

"Like what?" James prompted putting his hand in Ian's other thigh.

"I could get naked, touch my cock for you," Ian suggested, putting his hands over the men's hands  
as the rubbed at his legs. Mickey hated that this was part of the deal sometimes, but Ian knowing  
that he had been honest with his boyfriend abated some of the guilt of the act itself.

"That'd be good," Dustin said his brown eyes brightening at the suggestion. He grinned at James  
who smiled back at him. "And some simulated sex acts? It would turn us on to see that."

"Yeah, that's alright," Ian agreed standing up. He went over to the iPod and speakers on the  
corner table and put on his music, "This ok?"

Both men nodded agreeably and watched enraptured as Ian began to move slow and sultry to the  
music making his way back over to them.

"You a top or a bottom?" Dustin asked as Ian straddled his lap and rolled his hips.

"Versatile for the right person," Ian said dropping his forehead down so it was resting on Dustin's  
shoulder as he ground his cock against the guys lap.

"You find the right person yet?" James asked moving back to the corner chair he had been sitting  
in when Ian had first came in.

"You guys are really into knowing if I'm in a relationship," Ian observed with a laugh.

"We like knowing that we are getting something that belongs to somebody else," Dustin informed  
him dropping his hands to the back of Ian's thighs, "Take those shorts off..."

Ian followed the order standing up and beginning to pull down his shorts. He wasn't hard, so he  
dropped his hand down to his cock and pumped it a few times until it came to life. "This," he said  
looking down at his dick and then back up at Dustin, "belongs to someone else."

"Lucky guy," Dustin said licking his lips and admiring Ian's cock, "Come back over here, don't  
worry about James. He likes to watch."

Ian smirked over his shoulder at James as he climbed onto his partner's lap "We'll give you a good  
show, then."

*

As soon as the private was over Ian jumped in the shower, threw on his sweats, and made his way  
back to Mickey.

He was glad to see that Alex was no longer occupying the seat next to him.

"Let's go," Ian said intertwining his fingers with his boyfriend's and giving his hand a little tug.

"Eager," Mickey noted giving Ian a grin. He settled up his tab with Tim and allowed Ian to pull  
him out of the club. As soon as they were out of the door Ian pushed Mickey against the exterior  
brick wall of the building and began to kiss him ardently. Mickey broke away and gestured for Ian  
to walk with him to the El.

"Gonna get us a cab, so we can get home quicker," Ian informed Mickey grabbing behind his  
boyfriend's head and desperately pulling him back into the kiss.

"Can't wait to get fucked, huh?" Mickey teased against his lips gripping onto Ian's ass cheeks  
roughly.

Ian moaned his confirmation and they were off. The cab ride seemed to take hours. Mickey kept  
having to smack Ian's pawing hands away and laughed when he continued his attempts.

As soon as they got the door open to their apartment they were all over each other kissing their  
way into their bedroom, hardly breaking away from one another as they frantically undressed.  
When they were both naked, Mickey pushed Ian back onto their bed taking a moment to admire  
his body before he climbed on top of him licking and kissing at his collar bone. He trailed his  
tongue down Ian's chest stopping so he could give one his hard nipples a lick with the full length  
of his tongue. He brought his fingers up to pinch the pink nub causing Ian to buck his hips with  
pleasure, "You fucking love that shit," Mickey stated with a grin.

He continued his downward journey, working his way to Ian's erect cock. Ian groaned as Mickey  
pulled him into his mouth, his technique as frantic and needy as Ian felt. "Get the lube bitch," Ian  
said playfully ready for Mickey to get the show on the road. Mickey grinned around Ian's girth  
and pulled off with a pop so he could reach for the almost empty tube of lube. He'd keep it handy  
but he was going to use his mouth first.

Mickey grabbed behind Ian's knees and pushed his legs up so his mouth could gain full access to  
his ass. He wasted no time lapping and swirling at his rim, working him so good that the tight  
muscles began to twitch and loosen from pleasure. Ian felt his legs begin to shake as Mickey  
fucked into his hole with his tongue. In response to his trembles, Mickey held Ian's legs tighter and  
narrowed his tongue to push in deeper, "Holy fucking shit," Ian practically screamed as Mickey  
continued to expertly open him with his tongue.

He could hear a muffled laugh coming from Mickey, but he didn't fucking care. It felt so damn  
good. He never knew that rim jobs would do it for him but Mickey knew how to work him just  
right and it was hot as hell having his boyfriend want that much of him. There was a time he  
thought the whole concept was strange, but he always reminded himself how much he loved  
eating Mickey out, and his boyfriend no doubt felt the same because he was eating Ian's ass like  
he was starving while Ian unapologetically whined and moaned like a bitch below him. "I'm  
ready," He groaned starting to squirm under Mickey's pressure. Mickey kept licking and pressing  
causing Ian to gasp with each pass, "Ready," he whined again needing to feel Mickey's cock  
inside of him.

Mickey peeled his lips off of Ian and looked down at him his blue eyes bright with lust and his  
chin sloppy with spit. He rubbed at the slit of his cock, smoothing some of the precum that had  
beaded there over his length. He slicked himself up the rest of the way with lube and used one of  
his wet fingers to make sure Ian was ready. He hummed his approval before lining his cock up to  
Ian's hole and pushing in inch by inch.

Ian breathed out a guttural groan that came from deep in his belly and Mickey caught it in his  
mouth as he smashed their lips together. His boyfriend had only bottomed for him a few times  
since Valentine's Day and every time he did he got more into it.

"Fuck you feel good," Mickey moaned against Ian's lips. He dropped down heavy on Ian hooking  
both of his arms under Ian's arm pits and holding his hands together over Ian's head. He was flank  
against the taller man, Ian's rock hard cock brushing against both of their stomach with each of  
Mickey's shallow pushes.

"Really love this," Ian sighed into Mickey's mouth, their tongues continuing to meet each other as  
they panted and moaned, "Really love you."

"Really love you, too," Mickey assured him continuing to vigorously pump his hips, "Love when  
you're so needy for my cock."

"Yeah?" Ian breathed, "All I could think about tonight. Drove me fucking wild."

"Needed this ass," Mickey groaned as Ian bucked his hips up to meet Mickey's thrusts, "Needed  
you." He untangled his arms from around Ian and got onto his knees so he could get in deeper. Ian  
instinctively wrapped his legs around his boyfriend's waist and threw his head back with pleasure  
as Mickey drilled against his prostate, "Gonna make you cum."

"Mmmm," Ian moaned as Mickey gripped his hand roughly around Ian's cock and stroked him  
along with his pace. Ian felt the tension build and subside as he shook and whined through his  
orgasm.

"So hot," Mickey crooned appreciatively bringing his sticky hand to his mouth and licking it  
naughtily. Ian was thoroughly fucked under him but managed to cover his mouth with his hands  
to hide his smile and blush at his boyfriend's brazen wickedness.

Mickey was going to pull out but Ian shook his head and urged him on, "Finish, I'm good."

"My fucking badass bottom," Mickey complimented dropping his hands to Ian's hips and fucking  
into him hard to chase his own orgasm. It was only a few pumps before Mickey was twitching  
and filling Ian's ass with his cum.

Ian reached up to pull Mickey down onto him. The brunet rested his cheek on Ian's chest and  
sighed as the redhead began to scratch and tickle his back softly. "So good...you're so good,  
Mick."

Mickey mumbled some incoherent response and closed his eyes drifting off to sleep still deep  
inside his lover.

Chapter Nineteen: Ring for You

"This place is a shithole," Mickey observed shrugging off his coat and tossing it on the chair. The  
living room of their apartment had empty McDonald's bags and pizza boxes strewn around, some  
beer cans from the night before turned on their side on the coffee table, boots laying on the ground  
and a basket of laundry sitting on the couch next to Ian.

"Hey," Ian greeted without peeling his eyes off of the television. He had an XBox controller in his  
hands and was transfixed, "Been busy all day. Didn't have time to clean."

"You got the game?" Mickey asked impressed, stepping over the shit on the ground to kiss the top  
of Ian's head. Ian hit pause and lifted his face up to ask for a kiss. Mickey obliged planting his lips  
against his boyfriend's for a sweet peck. He knew Ian had been having a bitch of a time finding it  
but he was a persistent fucker, nobody knew that better than Mickey.

"Mmmhmm," Ian confirmed going back to the game "a buck fifty later..."

"You paid $150 for it!" Mickey cried walking into the kitchen to grab a beer, "You gotta be  
fucking with me."

"I'm dead serious," Ian responded, "Shit's really popular. Lip knew a guy who knew a guy."

"The kid will be pretty excited."

"Definitely," Ian agreed. "It's awesome. Get me a spoon of peanut butter. Didn't eat anything all  
day."

"Um, no" Mickey stated but immediately pulled out the peanut butter and a spoon. It was 4pm and  
the fucker needed to eat. He grimaced as he scooped up a glob of peanut butter, "Fucking nasty,  
man."

He walked over to the couch to hand the spoon over to Ian. Instead of reaching out for it Ian  
dropped open his mouth, eyes still focused on the game.

"I'm not feeding you," Mickey scoffed. Ian didn't reply instead he just kept his mouth ajar. Mickey  
stood there considering his options. He wanted to walk away and toss the spoon in the sink, but he  
was too fucking dick whipped. He brought the spoon to his boyfriend's lips earning a hum of  
appreciation as Ian pulled some of the peanut butter into his mouth with his tongue. Mickey  
fucking hated that his boyfriend tonguing up disgusting peanut butter turned him on. Ian was  
going to be the death of him.

"Love you," Ian garbled his mouth sticky. He swallowed and then took another moment to lick  
the spoon clean.

Mickey just grunted, tossed the spoon down on the coffee table and sat back in the chair, pushing  
his coat onto the ground, "We gotta leave here in a few minutes."

"Can't. Almost to the next level," Ian informed him, "Where are we supposed to be anyway?"

"Iggy's. Told me to come over, has to tell me something," Mickey replied.

"What does that have to do with me? Iggy doesn't give a shit if I'm there."

"Guess you fucking charmed Selena. She requested your ass."

"I do have a way with the ladies," Ian smirked raising his eyebrows and licking his lips.

Mickey pounded the rest of his beer, crushed he can and let out a belch before informing Ian,  
"You just licked those pretty lips, man."

"Don't you even..." but before Ian could finish his warning his boyfriend was knocking him over  
on the couch and tossing the controller out of his hands. Ian protested for a moment but his  
indignation gave way to a fit of wild laugher as Mickey tickled him incessantly, "Stop, stop! I've  
had to pee for hours. I'm gonna piss myself," he cried in between guffaws.

"Don't think it would be the first time someone pissed on this piece of shit," Mickey laughed  
patting his hand on the couch, "C'mere." He cradled his hand on the back of Ian's head and pulled  
Ian up as he leaned down. The kiss was tongue before lips, each of them revealing their hunger  
for the other, "You taste like peanut butter," Mickey whispered into Ian's mouth.

"You hate peanut butter," Ian sighed pulling back only to be brought back in by Mickey.

"But I love you."

*

"What do you think this is about?" Ian asked tucking his hands into his coat pocket as he and  
Mickey made their way to the Milkovich house.

Mickey shrugged, "Dunno. Probably knocked her up. Don't know why that shit would need an  
announcement. If that's fuckin' it, all they need is a trip to the clinic."

"Harsh," Ian tisked, "Some people actually try to have babies, you know. Then they're happy  
about it."

Mickey rolled his eyes and thumbed his lower lip, "She's a fuckin' stripper. How's she gonna  
make money if she's big and fat?"

"If she's pregnant you mean? I don't know, I'm sure they'd figure it out," Ian said with a shrug,

"Guys were still into Svet when she was pregnant with Yev."

"Guess if you got a hand and mouth that works dudes can look past it," Mickey relented,  
"Selena's just gotta become a hand whore then."

"I'm sure she'll love that suggestion," Ian said with a laugh.

They made their way up the stairs of the house and Mickey pushed open the door, "We're here,"  
he called out, "Let's get this show on the road."

"Shouldn't we..." Ian began, gesturing to removing their coats as Mickey threw himself down on  
the couch, tossing a zebra pillow out of his way.

Mickey shook his head, "We ain't staying long. You're off tonight. Not gonna waste our time  
talkin' about baby shit."

Iggy and Selena came from their bedroom into the living room looking like two cats that ate the  
canary. "Hi! Thanks for coming!" Selena exclaimed bubbly as ever. She was practically jumping  
up and down.

"No problem," Ian said politely while Mickey just sat there looking at the couple expectantly.

"Don't look so thrilled, Mick," Iggy teased ruffling his brothers hair. Mickey slapped his hand  
away, annoyed.

"What am I supposed to be thrilled about? We gonna start a guessing game or are you gonna tell  
us what the fuck's up?" Mickey groused.

Ian rested his hand on Mickey's knee, a not so subtle request for him to shut up. Mickey didn't like  
surprises. He wouldn't admit it, but Ian knew that they made him anxious and an anxious Mickey  
was an angry Mickey. As long as the anger wasn't directed towards him, Ian thought that angry  
Mickey was the cutest, which just got Mickey more angry, and in turn, way cuter.

"We're getting married!" Selena squealed holding her hand out so that Mickey and Ian could see  
the small diamond now adorning her ring finger.

Mickey just sat there looking surprised since he had been sure he would be hearing other news  
and Ian stood up to hug Selena and offer his "Congratulations." He shook Iggy's hand and kicked  
Mickey's foot to prompt him to get up and feign excitement. He rose up to shake Iggy's hand.

"You pregnant?" He asked as Selena as wrapped him in a tight hug.

She laughed as if it was the funniest thing she's ever heard, "You're hilarious, Mick! No, I'm not  
pregnant."

"Why the fuck are you two getting married if you're not knocked up?" Mickey asked with a look  
of pure confusion on his face, "What's the point?"

Selena looked at Mickey like he had three mouths and had just spit on her with each of them.

"Don't be an asshole, Mickey," Iggy warned, "We love each other. That's why we're getting  
married."

"I'm not tryin' to be," Mickey stated throwing his arms up in mock surrender.

"Did you set a date yet?" Ian asked eager to take some of the heat off of Mickey.

"May 10th, We already booked the Church down on South Shore" She was babbling about the  
colors, food and other mundane details while Ian forced a smile. That was his wedding date. It  
was really strange how far away it had seemed and now it was right around the corner. Over the  
last few months his life had changed so radically, that his time with Theo had felt like years ago.

He shuttered when he realized that he could have been walking down the aisle towards the wrong  
man if he hadn't come to his senses. Ian looked over at Mickey and felt relief flood his body. He  
couldn't imagine life without him. He reached his hand out to hold Mickey's and within a few  
minutes that same hand was pulling him out the door as he offered more congratulations and well  
wishes.

"Fucking dumb," Mickey chided dropping Ian's hand so he could light a cigarette. He offered it to  
Ian, but the redhead refused and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"What's dumb?" Ian asked innocently studying his boyfriend's profile as they walked towards  
home.

"Wedding shit. They're gonna waste a fuck ton of money just to get a bunch of old drunks more  
drunk," Mickey replied shaking his head in disbelief, "I get it if she was knocked up... Tryin' to  
look respectable or some shit, but just for nothing? Fucking dumb."

"Maybe they wanna, you know, commit themselves to each other in front of the people they  
love?" Ian suggested trying not to get worked up about Mickey's obvious distaste towards all  
things wedding and marriage related. He wasn't ignorant to his boyfriend's past and he knew that  
Mickey didn't view all that shit in the best light for good reason.

Mickey laughed sardonically, "Shit, almost forgot that you were the marrying type, Gallagher,"  
He playfully held his hand out to look at his tattooed fingers and gasped with mock excitement  
like there was a ring there, "Sappy public proposals and all that bullshit."

Ian blushed a deep crimson at Mickey recollection of his not so distant past, "I didn't do that," He  
said softly, "That waving, ring presenting bullshit."

"Yes you fucking did," Mickey insisted giving his boyfriend a smirk.

"How the fuck would you know?" Ian asked aggravated by Mickey's teasing.

All of a sudden, Ian wasn't the only man with a flushed face. Mickey's eyes grew wide and his  
mouth dropped open.

"Mickey..." Ian demanded stopping dead in his tracks and pulling his boyfriend's arm so he would  
stop, too. "How would you know...?"

"Educated guess," Mickey replied raising his eyebrows in challenge and bringing the cigarette to  
his lips. They stood there like that in an odd stand off until Mickey broke, "I was fucking there,  
alright? I saw your pansy ass reaction."

"You were where?" Ian asked his voice wavering and his hands beginning to shake.

"Stop," Mickey ordered grabbing both of Ian's hands in one of his, "I was there. Bussing tables."

"Fuck," Ian exhaled shaking his head, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't seem important," Mickey said with a shrug dropping Ian's hands and beginning to walk  
again, "The fuck was I supposed to say anyway, huh? 'Hey, congratulations!' while my fuckin'  
heart was being torn outta my chest. What difference would it have made?"

"Fuck," Ian repeated taking the cigarette from Mickey's mouth so he could inhale the warm  
calming smoke. "You were there the whole night?"

"Mmmhmmm," Mickey confirmed.

"Saw the dancing and all that?" Ian prodded his face turning impossibly redder.

"Yup," Mickey lit up a cigarette for himself.

"I really did that hand waving, ring admiring bullshit?" Ian asked rubbing his forehead.

"Oh yeah, you really did," Mickey grimaced at the memory, "Looked happy as fuck, too."

Ian shook his head but had no idea what to say. "Not as happy as I would've been if it had been  
you," was the best he could come up with.

Mickey let out a wry laugh and patted Ian's ass, "That'll never happen, Gallagher."  
Ian felt like he had been punched in the gut. It would never happen because Mickey would never  
propose to him? He would never marry him? "What would never happen?" He asked. He chided  
himself for how tentative and scared his voice sounded.

"You serious, Ian?" Mickey asked raising his eyebrows quizzically.

Ian just tilted his head in response.

"Fuck," Mickey sighed, "Weddings, marriage, any of that shit. You fucking know that."  
Ian felt tears begin to prickle in the corners of his eyes but he commanded himself to hold them in.

Mickey looked at Ian with a sidelong glance noticing the upset on his face. He was unsure of what  
to say, so he didn't say anything and they walked back to the apartment in silence as heavy as the  
darkness that had descended on the South Side during their short walk home.

Chapter Twenty: Love on Top

Mickey combed his fingers through Ian's fiery red tresses, watching as his boyfriend stirred from  
the touch. Before even opening his eyes a sleepy smile crept over Ian's lips, "Hi," he whispered  
voice still raspy from sleep. He fluttered his eyelids open and was treated to a view of Mickey's  
pale blue eyes gazing down at him. He was leaning over Ian's body, his hands propping him up,  
knees on either side of Ian's hips.

"I'm horny as a motherfucker, Gallagher," Mickey informed him dropping his mouth down to kiss  
and lick at Ian's neck, "Haven't fucked me in days."

Neither of them was unaware of the underlying tension between them that had been lingering  
since the walk home from Selena and Iggy's. Ian was too proud to bring up the conversation again  
and Mickey didn't know what the fuck to say, so it just kind of festered, creating a distance  
between them that they both fucking hated.

"Have a lot on my mind," Ian said his voice partially apologetic but also tinged with an edge of  
annoyance. He put his hands behind his head and sighed as Mickey began to kiss his way down  
his body.

"I know. We gotta talk about it," Mickey mumbled into Ian's skin, "And we will, ok? But I gotta  
fucking cum first."

"You don't need me for that," Ian informed him, raising his eyebrow when Mickey stopped  
abruptly and glared up at him.

"You expect me to fucking jerk it in the shower when I got a cock like this," Mickey scowled  
reaching down to cup his hand around Ian's half hard dick, "Ain't gonna happen."

"It's not yours," Ian stated his eyes blazing dark with challenge, chin jutting in the way it always  
did when he was pissed.

"The fuck it isn't," Mickey scoffed starting to stroke Ian slowly in his rough hand. The redhead's  
dick sprung to life under his boyfriend's touch.

"You don't wanna claim it. You want a loan. Don't wanna lock it down," Ian said biting his lip  
and looking down at Mickey with hooded eyes.

"Always been mine," Mickey reminded gripping the base of Ian's cock with his hand, twisting his  
head so he could get a good angle and licking a fat stripe from the underside of the shaft up to the  
tip. He began to trace circles around the head with his tongue, blue eyes staring hotly up into Ian's  
greens as he worked him good, "Always gonna be."

"That right?" Ian asked with bated breath. He threw his head back with a moan as Mickey took  
him down his throat in one fell swoop his nose pressed into the course hair at the base of his  
boyfriend's dick. "Holy shit." He pushed up on his elbows so he could watch Mickey go to work.  
Mickey had come a really long way from the closeted kid that refused to suck his cock and it  
never ceased to amaze Ian just how into giving head his boyfriend was.

Mickey held up his hand, opening and closing it, an indication that Ian should toss him the lube.  
He grabbed for the tube on the bedside table and placed it into Mickey's hand. They so seamlessly  
danced the well choreographed dance of life-long lovers.

Without taking his mouth off of Ian, Mickey squirted lube into his hand, slicked his fingers, and  
reached back to prep himself as he lapped at the head of Ian's dick. A shiver radiated through Ian's  
body as he admired the insane view, "So fucking hot, Mick."

Mickey flicked his eyebrows up and stuck his tongue out to take a long naughty lick. He smirked  
as much as he could with a cock in his mouth at Ian's body quaking in response.

"Ride it," Ian panted raking his fingers through Mickey's dark hair, "Show me who it belongs to."  
Mickey let Ian's dick fall heavy out of his mouth. He straddled his legs and gripped Ian's member  
so he could line up and plunge down on it, sheathing Ian completely. The redhead shuttered as  
Mickey's tight warmth surrounding him and Mickey moaned at feeling so damn full.  
Ian watched as Mickey engaged his strong thighs to begin to pull himself up and drop himself  
down on Ian's cock at a building pace. He could see the muscles in Mickey's broad chest and solid  
arms flex as he leaned down to push off of Ian's hips so he could fuck down on his boyfriend  
hard.

"Fuck," Ian groaned his voice trembling from Mickey's motion, "C'mon get it, baby."

Mickey straightened himself up and bit down on his lip as he bounced up and down on Ian and  
watched his boyfriend fall apart underneath of him.

"Feels really fucking good," Ian practically whimpered, wiping the sweat that was beading on his  
forehead with the back of his hand. He tried to keep it together but he couldn't take it anymore. He  
gripped his fingers into Mickey's hip bones and began drilling into his ass.

Mickey's body was shaking from Ian's force and the redhead couldn't take his eyes off of Mickey's  
full, swollen cock bobbing in the air as Ian fucked up into him. Mickey tossed his head back in  
pleasure, allowing his boyfriend to take over from below him.

"Get your hand on your cock and come all over me," Ian demanded with such intensity that  
Mickey was more than eager and willing to oblige.

He dropped his hand to his dick and jerked himself off with the same rhythm that Ian had  
established while pounding his ass.

"You close?" Ian asked very obviously coming apart at the seams and wanting to make sure  
Mickey got off before he allowed himself to spill his seed. "Can't fucking hold out much longer."

"Real... fuckin'..." he gasped his face flushed red from the exertion, "Fuck!" He cried as his body  
twitched through his orgasm, streams of cum raining down on Ian's chest.  
Ian let himself go, painting Mickey's insides while chanting a slew of curses.

"Goddamn that was good," Mickey sighed lifting off of Ian, some of his boyfriend's cum seeping  
out of his ass and back onto his cock, "So much fucking cum, man, you filled me up."

"Two days worth," Ian replied with a half grin trying to catch his breath, "I'm covered." He  
waved his hand over his chest and cock as if displaying evidence.

"You look hot like that," Mickey informed him leaning down to give him a kiss, "But Yev  
probably won't agree. Let's take a shower."

The weeknights that week hadn't worked out for Mickey to have Yev come by to check out the  
game, but they were able to pin down a Saturday date. Both Mickey and Ian had to work in the  
evening, so midday was perfect for some Doom action.

Ian allowed Mickey to grab his hand and pull him up from the bed. They made their way into the  
small shower, bodies pressed close to each other as they stood under the warm spray.

"Ian..." Mickey began clearing his throat, "You know I love you."

"I love you, too." Ian replied earnestly, looking down at Mickey's worried face.

"Why's that shit important to you? Huh? You know as well as I do that it's a fucking piece of  
paper. It don't mean anything," Mickey lathered the soap on his hand and rubbed it over his  
boyfriend's chest.

"Means something to me," Ian said softly, dipping his head down further so he could watch  
Mickey's hands clean his body.

"Why?" Mickey asked again his voice more patient than it has been seconds earlier.

Ian shrugged and picked his head up, pushing his wet hair out of his face. He looked into  
Mickey's confused blue eyes. It had been something that he'd thought about a lot, why the idea of  
marrying Mickey was so important to him. He was tentative to share his reasoning, worried he'd  
feel too exposed. Here he was, naked, worried about feeling too bare. He swallowed hard and  
decided to be brave.

"I've never belonged to anyone. Not Frank, not Monica, not even Clayton. I want to belong to  
someone," He took a deep breath. "That paper would say I belong to you, Mick. I want to belong  
to you," Ian confessed his eyes wide and pleading. He tried to strip the emotion out of his voice,  
but after the words escaped he realized he hadn't. He barely recognized himself; so young, so  
needy.

Mickey felt a mixture of warmth and awe flood through his body. He had no fucking idea how  
Ian managed to say shit that shook him to his core, but he just did and always had. Mickey let the  
water rinse off his sudsy hands and watched as the bubbles chased each other down the drain. He  
thumbed his bottom lip, his eyes still fixed on the shower floor, "I'll do it," he stated quietly.

"Do what?" Ian asked his voice shaking. Did he just propose to Mickey? Did Mickey just fucking  
say yes?

"Marry you," Mickey replied putting his hands on Ian's cheeks and gazing into his green eyes, "I'll  
marry you." He paused for long enough to brush his lips against Ian's. "Someday...we'll get  
married."

Ian nodded his head with fervor, completely overcome by the meaningfulness of the moment, of  
Mickey's words, of the knowledge that Mickey would do anything to make him happy, of the fact  
that Mickey wanted him forever... someday, "Yeah?"

"Was never a question if I wanted to be with you for the long haul, Gallagher," Mickey informed  
him reaching around to spank his boyfriend's ass playfully. Ian yelped out a laugh and knocked  
his hand away. Mickey had needed to add some levity to the moment because Ian looked like he  
was about to cry and fuck if he wanted to deal with that snotty mess right now, "You're it for me."

"Really?" Ian smiled.

"Yes, fucking really," Mickey said as if it should have been obvious, "You want to belong to me,  
huh?"

"More than anything," Ian assured him. His demeanor dead serious.

"Why do you gotta do that?" Mickey chided without much scorn. "I was going to say something  
about owning your ass and then you had to look all fucking cute and make me feel like a dick for  
even thinking it."

"My dick," Ian said with a goofy grin wrapping his arms around Mickey's waist, "I love my dick."

"I love your dick, too," Mickey told him eyebrows raised.

"I was calling you my dick."

"I fucking got it," Mickey laughed, "But I do love your dick."

"I love it, too," Ian confided licking his lips, "So when are we gonna do this?"

"Do what?" Mickey asked leaning over to grab the soap that he had dropped and feeling a hard  
slap on his ass. He glared up at Ian and then began lathering up his own body.

"Get married," Ian replied leaning down to kiss Mickey's shoulder.

"Shhh," Mickey soothed hushing his boyfriend's persistent mouth by putting his on top of it and  
kissing Ian passionately.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Twenty-One: Let You Down

"I gotta go. C'mon, man," Mickey said with a laugh pulling himself out of Ian's protective hold.  
After their shower they had laid down on their bed and kissed lazy, languid and in love for what  
felt like minutes and hours at the same time.

"Just one more kiss," Ian pleaded letting his bottom lip protrude into his signature pout that  
Mickey was powerless against,"Not gonna be able to kiss you with Yev here. Just need one  
more."

"Mmmm ok, twistin' my arm," He leaned back in to tangle his tongue with Ian's one more time  
before they broke apart.

"I'm really happy," Ian informed Mickey, cupping his hands on the man's cheek, "You make me  
really fucking happy."

Mickey tilted into Ian's hand a bit and grinned. "Oh yeah?" You were a pissy little shit and hour  
ago," He reminded him.

"Doesn't mean that you don't make me happy. Means that sometimes I'm a pissy shit," Ian said  
grinning right back at him. He leaned in to press his lips against his boyfriend's again.

"Ok, ok enough with the kisses, Gallagher, I'm going to be late. The kids gonna be sitting on the  
stoop shivering in the cold, fucking hungry and shit," Mickey rolling off of the bed and picking  
Ian's grey hoodie off the ground to put it on.

"I mean...that's dramatic," Ian said nonchalantly pulling his phone off the bedside table, "You  
nervous?" He already knew the answer.

"No," Mickey scoffed earning him a raised 'bullshit' eyebrow from Ian, "Fuck off," Mickey spat  
without intensity, "You're nervous."

"Never said I wasn't," Ian said plainly, "I just sent you a list of shit to grab for me at the Sev. Tell  
Yev to get whatever he wants. He'll like that. We can pig out on junk. It will be fun."

"You always pig out on junk," Mickey reminded him, "and I don't wanna spoil the kid."

"Yes you do. We spent a ton of money on that game," Ian stated looking at Mickey knowingly,  
"It's ok to want to spoil him a little. I get it."

Mickey flicked up his middle finger towards Ian and told him he'd see him soon.

About an hour, and a lot of awkward silences later Mickey and Yev made their way through the  
door of the shitty apartment, three large plastic bags of junk food dangling off Mickey's arm.

"Hey. Wow!" Ian exclaimed, relishing in how overboard Mickey had gone, his pitbull was such a  
puppy.

Mickey rolled his eyes at Ian's smug demeanor and emptied the bags onto their small table.

Ian was looking over the loot nodding his head with approval, "Sour straws. You got good taste,  
Yevgeny."

Yev muttered a barely audible "Thanks," his eyes scanning the apartment.

"It's not much," Mickey said quickly noticing his son checking the place out. Yevgeny was  
opening doors now, first the door to their bedroom and then to their small bathroom. Mickey and  
Ian exchanged a look of mutual panic trying to understand the inner-workings of a 9 year old's  
mind. Mickey decided that he was more intimidated by Yev than he had been of any motherfucker  
in prison. He looked like Mickey, but fuck if he didn't have his mother's presence.

"So you both live here?" He asked shrugging his coat off and laying it over he back of one of the  
chairs. He opened the package of Sour Straws and brought one of the hot green gummies into his  
mouth, letting it mostly dangle out as he sucked on the end. He was making a slurping noise that  
was as bad as nails on a chalkboard to Mickey, but he tried to distract himself by taking off his  
outerwear.

"Yeah, man," Mickey responded. He had thought Svetlana would've explained this to him before  
he came by.

"But you only have one bed," Yev observed looking at Mickey expectantly, "Where does he  
sleep?" Yev didn't look at Ian or acknowledge him by name. Ian forced himself not to bristle. This  
was all new to the kid.

"Ian sleeps with me... in the bed," Mickey stated, silently praying that this was the end of Yev's  
cohabitation line of questioning.

Yev nodded thoughtfully, his face looking slightly stormy, "My friend Hunter told me that when  
guys are in prison, they get kinda gay, but when they get out, they stop being gay."

Ian sucked at his top teeth, uncomfortable and thrown by the question. He grabbed the Monster  
that he requested, popped the top, and sat down on the couch. It was going to be a long day and  
he had to work later that night.

"Yeah, uh, that's not the case with me, Yev. Been this way for as long as I can remember,"  
Mickey replied clearing his throat, "Was with Ian long before I got locked up."

"Am I gonna be gay?" Yev questioned still slurping and sucking at the gummy.

Ian nearly spit his drink out but was able to hold it in as he watched the hamster wheel turn in

Mickey's head. He was clearly trying to figure out a good way to answer a question that he wasn't  
expecting to be asked.

"Just cause I'm gay, don't mean that you're gonna be. If you are that's ok, and if you're not that's  
ok, too," Mickey said with a shrug. He was biting his lower lip nervously and Ian was fucking  
itching to bite at it. Mickey being comfortable in his skin was the biggest turn on he could  
imagine. He closed his eyes determined to commit this exchange to memory. With two sentences  
he managed to be a better father than either Ian or Mickey had ever known.

Yev nodded, "My mom's a little gay, too, I guess. But she has her own room."

Mickey grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. He needed a fucking drink, "Do you want a soda or  
juice or something?"

"Soda's good," Yev answered putting two more Sour Straws in his mouth and sitting down on the  
living room chair that was the furthest from Ian.

"Can you toss me the Corn Nuts, Mick?" Ian asked holding his hand up.

Mickey obliged and gave Ian his typical Corn Nuts warning, "These crunchy fuckers are gonna  
break your teeth one day. Don't know how you eat them."

"Like this," Ian said popping open the bag and pouring a good amount of the crunchy kernels into  
his mouth. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Yev trying to hold back a smile that was  
threatening to curl up on his lips.

Mickey rolled his eyes, put a canister of BBQ Pringles under his arm, handed the soda to Yev and  
sat down on the couch next to Ian.

"This is pretty much what we did everyday when we were teenagers," Ian informed Yev the best  
he could with his full mouth.

"Smoked a shit ton of weed, played video games, and ate the hell out of pizza bagels," Mickey  
smirked at Ian leaving out the insane amount of fucking they did. But Ian knew and flicked his  
eyebrows up at his boyfriend.

"Sounds alright," Yev said studying the two men sitting in front of him, "Were you best friends or  
something?"

"Kinda," Ian replied, "Mandy was my best friend. Still is."

"That hurts, Gallagher," Mickey said with mock upset.

"Aunt Mandy?" Yev asked excitedly.

"Mmmhmm," Ian confirmed, "She's pretty cool, huh?"

"She's my favorite. Always sends me packages from Dylan's Candy Bar," Yev's bright blue eyes  
were alight with enthusiasm.

"I love Dylan's," Ian said smiling at Yev. He turned to Mickey, "Its a huge ass candy store."

"Wait, you've been there?" Yev was shocked. Ian may as well have said he was blessed by the  
pope. Mickey smirked at the kid's reaction.

"Yeah, I used to go to NYC pretty often. Always made sure to stop at Dylan's."

"I've never been out of Chicago," Yev pouted taking a sip of his soda, "Aside from visiting Dad."

"That ain't a fun trip," Mickey said with a click of his tongue. Yev shook his head in agreement.

Ian sat quietly, the excitement of the connection he just made with Yev waning when he thought  
of Mickey having to watch his son grow from behind glass.

Instinctively Mickey rested his hand on Ian's knee. Ian hated that Mickey was the one that went  
through it all, and yet Ian needed to be comforted. It wasn't fair and he knew that, but the guilt was  
too much. He'd never forgive himself for abandoning Mickey. He was really fucking grateful that  
Mickey had forgiven him. He was dying to lean over and wrap Mickey in his arms, kiss him, and  
tell him how much he loved him, but he held himself back.

"So you wanna give this Doom thing a try?" Mickey asked holding out a controller to Yev. The  
kid lit up and planted himself on the couch between Ian and Mickey, forcing them further apart to  
accommodate him.

"You gonna play with me, Dad?" Yev asked eagerly. Mickey looked at Ian who was handing the  
controller over to him and giving a nudge of the chin gesture for him to go ahead.  
Ian sat back on the couch to watch Yev and Mickey play. They were so similar, both physically  
and through their mannerisms. They smiled the same wide grin, lifted their eyebrows in that overly  
arched way, talked shit to varying degrees of destruction. It was remarkable.

They had spent so much time apart, and yet, Yev was a spitting image of his father. Ian found  
himself falling in love with Yev all over again. It was difficult to reconcile that the little blond  
baby he has snuggled with and fussed over 9 years ago had grown into this beautiful reflection of  
his father. Yev may not have warmed up to Ian as much as the man would've liked, but he knew,  
more than ever, that he would keep working at it. Yev didn't remember it, but Ian had let him  
down and he planned to work at making it up to him for as long as it took, just like he had done  
with Mickey.

"This is pretty fucking cool," Mickey said turning his head to smile at Ian. He was surprised to see  
his boyfriend's face looking somber. "What?" He whispered to Ian taking his attention off of the  
game for a moment.

Ian shook his head quickly, "No, I'm fine. Don't worry."

Mickey frowned and turned back to the game, periodically catching Ian's eyes. Yev was entranced  
by the game not aware of what was going on around him.

Hours later after all the snacks were all eaten, levels were beaten, Yev was delivered home  
exhausted from the sugar and excitement rush he was crashing down from.  
Mickey made his way over the the couch where Ian was wrapped up in the totally addictive video  
game. "Hey," He said softly pressing his lips against the skin just below Ian's ear, "that went well,  
right?"

"Definitely," Ian confirmed pausing the game and draping his legs over Mickey's lap, "It was fun.  
Yev's..." he took a deep breath and sighed out starry eyed, "Amazing, Mick. He's fucking  
incredible. So smart, and cute. Looks just like you."

"Yeah? You think?" Mickey asked unable to disguise the immense amount of pride in his voice.  
Ian nodded, "I'm just... Shit, I fucked up so bad. I shoulda been there for him. Helped raise him."

"Wasn't on you. It was on me and I was a dumb fuck and got myself locked up. That ain't you,  
Ian," Mickey admonished shaking his head.

"I mean, you got locked up because of me."

"I made the choice to fuck her up," Mickey retorted.

"She fucking deserved it," Ian retorted.

"Deserved worse," Mickey agreed taking his boyfriend's hand in his.

"I'm Monica, Mick. In and out of the kid's life. Fucking disappeared when shit got hard. I was  
more worried about myself, my emotions, my bullshit," Ian stated dejectedly.

"You're not fucking Monica, Ian," Mickey assured him, but in the darkest corners of his mind, he  
worried that Ian's assessment wasn't entirely off base, "You're not Monica," He repeated giving  
Ian's hand a squeeze wanting to be as sure as he sounded.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Still Falling

Mickey laughed as soon as he entered the shitty apartment and caught sight of Ian sitting on the  
couch playing Doom, "Seriously, man?"

"Just making sure we get our money's worth," Ian replied eyes fixed on the screen, "How was  
work?"

"Kinda weird. There's this guy who just started workin' with me, a busser. He moved here a few  
weeks ago and doesn't know anybody," Mickey said pulling out two glasses and filling them with  
water, "Guess he's gay and he sorta invited himself to the club with me tonight."

This got Ian's attention. He paused the game and looked over at Mickey, "Oh yeah? He sorta did?  
How'd that happen?" He prompted, jealousy dancing in his green eyes.

"We were bullshitting with Luca after we got done with lunch. You came up. Luca mentioned  
what you did and Sam said he's been wanting to get out...meet somebody or some shit," Mickey  
said with a shrug walking over to the couch. He handed the water to Ian, "Drink."

Ian brought the glass to his lips and assessed Mickey's face raising his eyebrows skeptically as he  
took a sip, "And he wants to meet someone at the club...?"

"Don't know if he's looking for a fucking husband, Firecrotch. He's probably horny and wants to  
fuck. I didn't ask, just told him where we'd be tonight," Mickey responded raising his eyebrows  
right back.

"So your gay, horny, coworker is coming with you to the club tonight," Ian clarified pausing  
between each word for affect.

"I mean... yeah," Mickey said his voice raising up at the end of the phrase like it was a question.  
His blue eyes searched Ian's face for a response. He wasn't sure what he was actually looking for  
but he wasn't getting anything in return, "It ain't like I'd ever be interested in him if that's what  
you're worried about," Mickey continued earning a scoff from Ian as if he wasn't concerned even  
though he was raging with jealousy, "Only want you."

"Hmmm," Ian hummed, "Guess I'm looking forward to meeting your first friend EVER, then."

"I have friends..." Mickey began but busted out laughing at the complete lie of a statement, "tryin'  
to be nice or something."

"How's that working out for you?" Ian asked with a grin.

"We'll have to see if my boyfriend is turned on by the newer, nicer model. You turned on?" Ian  
shook his head with a smirk. "You look like a wet rat," Mickey teased leaning in to kiss Ian's  
damp hair itching to change the subject, "Workin' up a sweat with all that thumb action?"

"Fuck off," Ian laughed, "Weather's finally nice enough to run. Got out and pounded the  
pavement."

"I'll give you something to pound," Mickey flirted lifting his eyebrows and straddling Ian's legs so  
he was sitting on his boyfriend's lap.

"Corny motherfucker," Ian grinned sliding his hands past the waist of Mickey's work pants and  
grabbing two handfuls of his perfect ass.

"You fucking love it," Mickey stated leaning in to kiss Ian as the redhead continued to squeeze his  
ass.

"I do. But I gotta go," Ian said with a groan moving his hands up so he could wrap his arms  
around Mickey's waist and lift him into the air as he stood up from the couch. Instinctively Mickey  
folded his legs around Ian's back so his boyfriend didn't drop him.

"Prick," He grunted as Ian slammed his back against the wall. His head fucking hated when Ian  
picked him up. It made him feel small, feminine, and soft; all shit he hated. But his cock, his cock  
fucking loved when Ian threw him around like that. His stupid cock got hard just thinking about it.

When Ian actually got ballsy enough to manhandle him, Mickey's lust was fierce.

"Think your new friend can do this to you?" Ian asked hotly rutting his hard cock against the  
bulge in Mickey's pants while using the wall to help support his boyfriend's weight.

"No fuckin' way," Mickey gasped as Ian continued to grind against him and sucked hard on the  
soft skin of his neck, with the intention of marking him up. Just as Mickey was losing himself in  
the moment, he felt Ian's arms drop causing Mickey to slide off his body. "The fuck, Gallagher?"

"Told you I had to go. Gotta shower, then dinner with Grace and heading to the club," Ian stated  
stripping off his clothes in the middle of the living room and leaving them in a pile on the floor.

"Goddamn," Mickey breathed. He knew Ian's body as well as he knew his own. He had every dip  
and muscle memorized, but it didn't stop him from salivating in moments like this when Ian was  
standing in front of him in all of his glory. He licked his lips at the sight of his boyfriend's huge  
flagging cock and was pulled across the room by Ian's magnetism. He painted Ian's collar bone  
with kisses before dropping down to his knees planting descending kissing on that hard body and  
letting his fingers drag down Ian's skin.

"I'm sweaty," Ian gasped as Mickey lapped at the head of his dick.

"Like I give a fuck..." Mickey crooned giving him a naughty smirk before taking him wholly  
down his throat.

Ian threw his head back, tangled his fingers in Mickey's raven tresses and allowed himself to be  
late to dinner.

*

"You think this looks alright?" Sam asked straightening out the white collared shirt he was  
wearing.

Mickey shrugged, "Fuck if I know, man. I ain't that kinda gay."

Sam laughed clapping his hand on Mickey's back companionably, "Neither am I. That's why I  
need help."

They made their way over to Tim's bar and took a seat to wait for the bartender to make his way  
over to them. The club wasn't empty but it hadn't hit its late night energy yet.

"Pretty cool place," Sam said looking around his brown eyes wide, taking it all in, "We didn't  
have places like this in Nebraska."

Mickey just nodded, tapped his fingers on the mahogany bar top, turned his head and let his eyes  
drift to Ian, who was dancing on the featured platform.

"Looks like an animal got to you," Sam quipped gesturing to the huge bloom of black and blue  
now visible on Mickey's neck.

Mickey faced his coworker again and scoffed, "No shit. He's a beast... and a fucking jealous ass  
bitch," Sam could see from Mickey's grin that he had a lot of pride in his relationship with that  
'jealous ass bitch.'

"Jealous of what? This?" Sam asked with a laugh waving at the air between them.  
Mickey shrugged, "I guess."

"Tell him you're not my type," Sam said knocking Mickey on the back again, "I like 'em prettier.  
No offense."

"None taken," Mickey said throwing his hands up, "Ain't into being called pretty."

"That guy...that's my type. Gorgeous. Soft face, hard body. Mmm," Sam said salaciously,  
gesturing over to where Ian was dancing, "Never been into redheads but I could definitely get into  
him, if you know what I mean." He elbowed Mickey in the ribs gently and flicked up his  
eyebrows.

"You could get into him if you wanted to fuckin' die," Mickey growled thumbing his nose with  
his knuckle and glaring at Sam.

"Your man?"

"Mmmhmmm," Mickey responded his lips pursed tight.

"Shit, you done good. Guess he's not the only jealous ass bitch though, right?" Sam said lightly,  
smiling at his new friend in an attempt to disarm him.

In spite of himself Mickey cracked a smile and told Sam to "Fuck off."

"Hey Mick, who's your buddy?" Tim greeted putting cocktail napkins out in front of the two men.

"Moe, Sam, Sam, Moe," Mickey introduced in a highly uninterested fashion.

"It's Tim actually," The bartender said reaching out his hand to shake Sam's. Mickey noticed a  
slight gleam in Tim's eyes that wasn't typically there.

"Sam's new in town and looking to fuck," Mickey stated bluntly hoping to help the process along.  
With his platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes, Tim could be considered pretty.  
Sam shot Mickey a mortified look while Tim laughed and made small talk with him. Mickey was  
relieved that Tim was mixing their drinks while he hit on Sam because he was in desperate need  
of a cocktail.

"Looking to fuck?" Sam hissed after Tim had excused himself to assist other patrons.

"You're not?" Mickey asked innocently, biting his lip.

"I mean..." Sam began his lips breaking into a grin.

"That's what I thought," Mickey laughed. He felt arms drape over his shoulder and a kiss laid on  
his cheek. He turned his head so Ian could get to his lips and laughed into the kiss that Ian  
predictably deepened. Clearly, according to his boyfriend, the huge ass hickey on Mickey's neck  
hadn't claimed him enough.

Ian pulled off of Mickey so slowly that his lips took Mickey's along with them before  
disconnecting fully, "Hey," he said in a volume that was inaudible to anyone but Mickey.

"Hey," Mickey breathed back his eyes focused on his boyfriend's perfect pink lips. He leaned  
back in to press an inner lip peck against them. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself  
and glanced at Sam who was smiling at the couple. "Ian, this is Sam. Sam, my boyfriend Ian."

"Nice to meet you, man," Ian said unwrapping himself from around Mickey to shake Sam's hand.  
He couldn't help but notice that Mickey's new 'friend' was a really good looking guy with his  
warm brown skin, wide smile, dark curly hair and muscular build.

"Nice to meet you, too, Ian," Sam greeted congenially, "Heard a lot about you."

"Oh yeah? This guy's typically not so talkative," Ian teased ruffling up Mickey's hair earning him  
a few annoyed "ey, 'ey, 'eys" from his boyfriend.

"Well I think you're his favorite subject," Sam smiled, "Talks about you like you got sunshine  
shooting out of your ass."

"Aww, that's cute, Mick," Ian crooned squeezing Mickey's side in the way that always made him  
laugh.

"You're gonna give him a big head," Mickey told Sam, "and his head's already fucking huge."

"Don't usually complain about the size of my head," Ian joked with raised eyebrows going back  
for another squeeze.

"Quit," Mickey warned unable to hold back his laughter.

"Ah, so Mickey's a size queen," Sam exclaimed with a smirk.

"Don't ever fucking call me a queen," Mickey chided.

"A size king then. That better?" Sam asked unaffected by Mickey's annoyance.

Ian's face lit up, "I like him, Mick." He then mouthed to Sam 'he is' and earned a knowing nod  
from Mickey's coworker, who was quickly becoming Ian's new best friend.

"Cause he gives me shit?" Mickey asked rolling his eyes.

"Mmmhmm," Ian confirmed, "Gives you shit and then doesn't give a fuck when you get pissy."  
Sam reached out to fist bump Ian.

"The fuck is this shit," Mickey groused.

Sam laughed and gave Mickey another knock on his back causing Mickey to down the rest of his  
drink at record speed.

"I have a private I have to get to," Ian said intertwining his fingers with Mickey's and bringing his  
boyfriend's knuckles up to his lips so that he could kiss each of them, "Will you guys still be here  
when I'm done?"

"I may ditch this motherfucker, but I'll be here," Mickey informed Ian holding his chin up so the  
redhead could lay a kiss on his lips. Ian loosed his grip on Mickey's hand and reached over to  
shake Sam's.

"Don't listen to him, man. You're cool." Ian assured him with a grin, "It was nice to meet you."

"You, too, Ian. By the way, you're quite the artist."

"My dancing?" Ian asked flattered. Mickey laughed and patted his boyfriend's ass.

"I mean, that too, but I was talking about your masterpiece on Mickey's neck!" Sam said with a  
chuckle.

"Oh this old thing?" Ian joked back with a dismissive wave towards the hickey, "that was light  
work. You should see his ass."

"Ok, get the fuck away," Mickey spat giving Ian a much harder smack.

"Have fun," Ian laughed leaning in to kiss his pouting boyfriend one last time before he headed up  
to his private.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Love More

As soon as Ian opened the door to VIP 1 he plastered a fake smile on his lips for Dustin's benefit.  
It has been about a month since he saw the George Clooney lookalike and his partner. The private  
with them hadn't been bad per se, just uncomfortable. They had seemed more interested in Ian's  
personal life than his cock, which was pretty suspect.

"Hey Ian," Dustin greeted warmly, standing up from his spot on the couch so he could shake Ian's  
hand.

"Hey, man. How's it going?"

"Well, very well."

"Flying solo tonight?" Ian questioned scanning the small room for James.

"Yes, I came here in an official capacity," Dustin began gesturing for Ian to take a seat on the  
couch next to him.  
Ian tentatively obliged, looking at the well dressed man skeptically.

"Drink?" He asked holding out a scotch to Ian, who politely shook his head no, "I guess I'll just  
jump right in..."

"By all means," Ian insisted eager to know what this was all about.

"I have a proposition for you, one that will pay you handsomely," Dustin began. He took a sip of  
his drink and sighed as the liquor made its way down his throat, "You see Ian, I know who you  
are. I know where you've been, what you've done."

"If this is about porn, I'm not interested," Ian stated shaking his head, "I was fucked up when I did  
that. Never going there again."

"No, not that," Dustin insisted quickly laying his hand on Ian's knee reassuringly.

"Not interested in fucking for money either," He added shifting uncomfortably, "Not that you're  
not good looking and all... but I have a boyfriend who I'm really fucking serious about."

"This is a different type of whoring," Dustin assured him, "Can I go on?"

Ian nodded.

"I followed the scandals that surrounded your relationship with the Lt. Governor."

"Theo," Ian croaked suddenly feeling his chest tighten.

"Theo," Dustin confirmed nodding, "I'm a literary agent, Ian, and I've shopped around your story  
to several publishers. They're very interested in a tell all. Poor kid who grew up on the wrong side  
of the tracks meets a powerful man, seduces him, lives the life of luxury garnering his own power.  
Then everything comes crashing down. Drugs, sex, power, political intrigue... your story has it all.  
They're even thinking it could parlay into a movie deal."

"I don't understand," Ian breathed, blindsided by the conversation.

"I want to help you get your story out there. There's been stories like this, but never with a gay  
man as the central figure, never with a rising gay politician who has his eyes on the presidency  
someday involved," Dustin continued his brown eyes alight with excitement.

"Does Theo know about this?" Ian asked dumbly. He could feel his hands beginning to shake.

Dustin smirked, "I don't think he'd approve, do you?"

Ian shook his head, "No."

"Did you ever sign a NDA?"

"A what?"

"A non-disclosure agreement? A promise not to talk about your relationship," Dustin clarified. Ian  
shook his head again and Dustin rubbed his hands together, "Great. Ian, this could make you a  
windfall of money."

"How much are we talking?" Ian asked quietly, completely aware of how fucked up it was that he  
was even considering.

"$50-60k easy and that's just for the book. If it gets a movie option, upwards of $200,000."

"Are you fucking serious?" Ian asked his mouth dropping open.

"Yes, you picked the right guy to fuck," Dustin said with a laugh, "and fuck over."

"This just... this isn't something I'd ever do," Ian admitted, "the guy never did shit bad to me."

"But think how much good that money can do for you and Mickey," Dustin reasoned.

"How do you..." Ian began but Dustin cut him off.

"I studied up, Ian."

"And what do you get outta all of this?" Ian questioned, his tone accusatory.

"15%," Dustin said fishing his card out of his wallet and handing it to Ian, "think about it, ok? I  
don't need an answer today. Talk to Mickey."

Ian nodded and flicked the card between his fingers, watching as Dustin exited.  
Head spinning, Ian headed back to his locker to text Mickey. He needed to be with him, feel him,  
fuck him.

-Go prep yourself. Pants off. Meet you in bathroom in 5.-

Mickey's breath hitched as soon as he read the message. He turned towards Sam, whose chocolate  
eyes were scanning the dance floor, "Yeah, so.. uh, Ian's gotta talk to me for a few minutes. I'll be  
back."

Sam gave him a knowing grin and said, "Have fun," as Mickey made his way towards the  
bathroom.

He tucked away into the largest stall and locked the door behind him. He leaned down to untie his  
boots, grabbed a lube packet out of his wallet and pulled his pants off tossing them carelessly over  
the support rail. He tore open the packet with his teeth and pushed the cool gel out to coat his  
fingers. Resting his foot on the toilet lid so he could get a good angle, he began to trace two  
fingers around his puckered hole. When he felt the lube was appropriately warmed he slowly  
pushed his middle finger in incrementally, biting his lip and letting out a breathy moan when he  
took himself in to his knuckle. He bounced on his finger as he pushed in deeper intent on opening  
himself quickly for Ian. He moved his finger in small circles, gradually making them wider and  
brushing against his prostate with every revolution.

"Fuuuck," he sighed as he added his index finger to the mix, painstakingly repeating his routine  
while making room for an extra step. He bounced and pushed back on his knuckles, his cock  
twitching at the thought that soon he'd have Ian's huge cock filling him much better than his  
fingers ever could. He didn't focus too much on the smaller circles, already hungry for more. He  
lavished on the larger rotations, pushing back hard against his barriers so he was good and ready  
for the pounding he knew he was about to get. Scissoring his fingers wide he stretched himself out  
and began the cycle again.

On his third time around he could hear soft whimpers escaping his lips. He dropped his other hand  
to his stiff cock and started to stroke himself languidly. He was fucking gone, desperate for Ian to  
come destroy his ass by the time he heard a light tapping on the stall door.  
He slid the lock to the side and peeked his head out so he could make sure it was Ian. The redhead  
gave him a mischievous grin as he locked the door behind him.

"Fuck my man's so hot," Ian practically growled as he looked over Mickey's firm body and licked  
his lips.

It wasn't often that Mickey felt shy around Ian but he could feel his cheeks flush at Ian's vehement  
stare, too aware that he was standing in a bathroom stall in only his grey sweater and black socks.

"Quit starin' at me and get on my ass," Mickey demanded shifting uncomfortably. Ian smirked,  
kicking off his sneakers and removing his little black shorts all while keeping his eyes fixed on  
Mickey's hard cock. Before Mickey could take a moment to enjoy the view, his body was  
crashing hard against the wall.

“Fuck I need you,” Ian rasped hotly, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s lower back. He smashed  
his mouth against Mickey’s, biting his way in. His tongue desperately chased Mickey's around his  
mouth not able to get enough of the man moaning against his lips.

"Take me," Mickey whispered dropping his lips to Ian's neck, kissing and licking at the spots that  
drove Ian crazy. The words coupled with Mickey's lips, sent an electrical charge through Ian's  
body.

"Go over to the toilet, put your leg up" Ian ordered earning him a skeptical eyebrow raise from his  
boyfriend. Mickey, ever the willing lover, obliged. Ian pumped his hard cock a few times before  
positioning himself against Mickey's hole. Mickey's lifted leg made it possible for Ian to squat  
down a bit and slide himself into Mickey's tightness without much resistance. They moaned  
simultaneously at the sensation of being connected.

"C'mere," Mickey said waving Ian towards him for a kiss. Ian pressed his lips against Mickey's  
while gripping his ass hard so that he could raise him into the air. Mickey wrapped his legs around  
Ian's waist and gasped when Ian slammed his back against the wall, still deeply seated inside of  
him. "No way," he was shaking his head in disbelief that Ian thought he could hold up his body  
and fuck him.

"Watch me," Ian taunted "Been thinking about this since this afternoon." He hoisted Mickey up a  
bit more and started to fuck into his boyfriend with shallow, pulsing thrusts.  
Mickey dropped his head so that his lips were resting on Ian's bare shoulder as the redhead  
situated himself in a position to give it to him good and hard the way he loved it. He pushed back  
on Mickey's hips so that the wall helped support his boyfriend's weight and bent his knees slightly  
so he could ram deeper into his ass.

"Fuck, just like that," Mickey coaxed as Ian found his rhythm and snapped his hips and an  
increased pace. Ian felt Mickey's fingers digging hard into his shoulder blades but he didn't give a  
fuck. His boyfriend was falling apart against him, and he was too damn sexy to stop him, "Holy  
shit."

"You like that?" Ian asked breathlessly pushing back harder against Mickey's hips so he could  
continue to drive into him mercilessly. He could feel sweat beading on his skin from the exertion.

"Love it," Mickey confirmed, "Fucking rockstar."

The ego stroke gave Ian another surge of energy and an increased need to wreck his boyfriend by  
fucking him like he'd never been fucked before. He removed one of his hands from Mickey's hip,  
glancing down at the black and blue marks that were already beginning to appear on his pale skin  
and prompted Mickey to bundle his legs around Ian's waist tighter to help balance his weight. Ian  
wrapped his free hand around Mickey's neck and groaned at the sound of the amazing whines  
pouring out of his boyfriend's mouth, "You take my cock so good, Mick. So fucking hot."

Between the enormous rod fucking his ass and the strong hand gripping his neck, Mickey could  
barely contain himself dropping his hands off of Ian so that he could claw at the wall, nervous to  
leave indentations on his boyfriend's skin. Ian bobbled at the shift of balance and slipped out of  
Mickey, causing his boyfriend to unwrap his legs and try to find stability despite his knees being  
shaky and weak from both the effort and pleasure.

He made his way over to the cold metal bar and gripped onto it, bending over and presenting his  
ass to Ian. He looked over his shoulder, gave Ian his 'fuck me' eyes and bit his lip salaciously,  
"Get the fuck in me, Gallagher. Make me forget my fucking name."

A broad smile crossed over Ian's lips as he lined up with his boyfriend's waiting hole. He plunged  
in in one swift movement causing Mickey to cry out in pleasure. They hardly ever fucked like this  
anymore. Ian was always too desperate to see Mickey's gorgeous face. He forgot how deep he  
could get, how hot it could be. He dug his fingers into Mickey's hips intent on leaving darker  
marks than the ones that were already covering his lover's skin.

As he railed into Mickey's tight hole he looked down at the perfect mounds and smirked at the  
array of marks that claimed that ass; some were angry and red from earlier that day, others  
saturated and blue from several days ago, and a few were yellow from hanging around on his skin  
for weeks. He loved how fucking tough and strong Mickey was, never complaining, always  
taking what Ian gave him and begging for more.

In an attempt to quiet some of Mickey's loud moans, Ian put his finger into Mickey's wet, hot  
mouth, "Suck them," he demanded, knowing that his noises would just increase with what Ian  
was about to do next. Mickey obliged drawing Ian in deeper and swirling his tongue around the  
digits.

The sounds of aggressive sucking and violent skin slapping filled the air as Ian began to drill hard  
against Mickey's prostate.

"Ohhh, oohhhhhh, fuuuuuuck, yessss, fuck yes Ian, fucking wreck me," Mickey was practically  
screaming, too far gone to give a shit that there were most likely other patrons in the bathroom.

"Shhhh," Ian laughed cupping his hand over Mickey's mouth but not relenting in his assault of his  
hole.

Mickey bit at the palm of his lover's big hand, his groaning and moaning stifled by his skin.

"Wet it," Ian panted, quickly losing his breath from the brutal fucking he was giving to his man.  
Mickey began to lap at Ian's palm with long, licks.

"More," Ian demanded dropping one hand down to pull down on his own balls in an attempt to  
distract himself so he didn't finish before Mickey.

Mickey frowned and spit onto Ian's palm, pushing his ass back against his dick with a guttural  
groan.

"Again," Ian panted. He moaned when his boyfriend followed his direction. He took his hand off  
of his balls and brought it to Mickey's shoulders knowing that it was about time.

He dropped his now sloppy spit covered hand to Mickey's dripping cock and began to stroke him  
in time with his thrusts. Mickey's dick was covered in his own saliva and precum, making it easy  
for Ian to slide his hand forward and back on it. "Gonna cum," Mickey dropped his head down  
between his shoulders, and groaned prompting Ian to fuck into him even harder, "Fuck...that cock,  
fucking love that big fucking cock," Mickey was chanting a slew of praises to Ian's manhood  
before letting out a strangled shout as he shot jizz all over the tiled wall in front of him.

Ian thrust his dick into Mickey as far as he could push and dropped his head back moaning in  
ecstasy as he spilled his seed deep into Mickey. He rested his chest flank against Mickey's back as  
they both attempted to regain their breath.

"Fuck that was good," Mickey sighed.

"Mmmhmm," Ian hummed in agreement, "Love you so much."

Mickey grabbed Ian's sticky hand and laid a sweet kiss on the back of it, "Wipe me up."

Ian straightened himself out and guided his dick out of his boyfriend. He wadded up a bunch of  
toilet paper in his hand and squatted down so he could clean off the remnants of his release that  
were dripping down Mickey's leg. He moved up to his hole and admired the cum that was pooled  
there for a moment before wiping it up, "You're so goddamn sexy," He complimented leaning  
down to kiss his boyfriend's ass cheek before giving it a soft pat to indicate he was all good.

"The floor, too," Mickey directed with a grin, pulling his boxer briefs and pants back on as Ian  
sighed and got down on his knees to clean up the cum that Mickey had sprayed against the wall  
and floor.

Ian pulled on his shorts and shoes and kissed his boyfriend passionately, "I got another hour."

"Good, I should be ready for round 3 by the time we get home," Mickey said with another smirk.

"Fuck you," Ian laughed, "I'm tired!"

"Whiny bitch," Mickey teased giving him one last kiss before Ian exited the stall. He waited until  
he heard the water turn off before he emerged. Ian was gone but another guy was standing at the  
urinals looking at him wide eyed.

"The fuck you looking at," Mickey grunted straightening his sweater and turning on the sink to  
wash his hands. The guy shrugged. Mickey kept catching glances from the other dude in the  
mirror, "it's fucking weird to stare when you got your dick in your hand," Mickey snapped.

The guy shook off and zipped up his pants, "Sorry, that was just... really fucking hot. How much  
he cost you?"

Mickey scoffed, "I get that ass for free, man." He gave him a dirty look and added, "he's my  
fucking partner."

"Oh I'm sorry," the guy said his cheeks turning red, "I just thought..." he cleared his throat, "you  
guys married or...?"

"Getting married soon," Mickey stated grabbing paper towels and wiping his hands.

"Congratulations to you both," The guy said sincerely.

"Yeah thanks," Mickey said briskly before exiting the bathroom. He stood in shock for a moment  
at his sudden inclination to lock Ian's ass down on paper before heading back to Sam.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Twenty-Four: Hold You

Something had disrupted Mickey's sleep cycle leaving him not fully out, but far from awake. He  
stirred and shifted attempting to find a comfortable position to sink into. He stretched his foot out  
to tuck it between Ian's calves like he typically did, but try as he might he couldn't find the warm  
skin. He reached out his arm to wrap it around his boyfriend's firm chest, but again found nothing  
but air, his arm falling against the crumpled bed sheets and threadbare comforter.  
There wasn't any escaping each other in their full sized bed, and that's the way Mickey liked it.  
Cuddling had been a foreign concept before Ian, something too soft and unnecessary, but just as  
he had in so many other ways, the redhead lowered his defenses all those years ago. He allowed  
him to give into cravings for closeness and tenderness that he'd never actually thought he would  
have.

He silently admonished himself for being so fucking needy. It was nearly impossible for him to  
sleep without Ian. He had spent 8 years on a small cot with little more than a tattered sheet to bring  
him comfort and he'd done fine. Now, he was in a relatively comfortable bed, in a heated  
apartment, struggling because he couldn't wrap himself up in his lover's body.  
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sighed when he confirmed that Ian wasn't in the bed with  
him. He turned over to glance at his phone: 5:30 am. They had gotten home from the club at two.  
Why the fuck was he up? Panic began to course through his veins and settle in his chest. Fuck.  
As he climbed out of bed, he reminded himself that Ian had been balanced. If he hadn't been,  
Mickey would have noticed. He watched him, studied him, loved him. He would never miss the  
signs again.

A familiar scent wafted into the room, drawing Mickey out of bed. He walked out into the living  
room, arms crossed over his bare chest, and eyes squinting at the light that greeted him.  
Ian turned his head to look up at Mickey from where he was was laying on the couch, joint  
between his fingers, guilty look on his face, "Shit, did I wake you?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Wake and bake, Ian?" Mickey tisked shaking his head, "You know you're  
not supposed to..." he began, but caught himself. He would always take care of Ian, but he wasn't  
going to be his fucking nurse, not this time.

"I know. I'm stressed. Are you cold? Come lay with me," Ian said lifting up the blanket that was  
draped over his torso. Like Mickey, he was only in his boxer briefs.  
Mickey moved towards his boyfriend and climbed in between his straddled legs, leaning his back  
flank against Ian's chest. Ian pulled the blanket over them, wrapped his legs around Mickey's and  
draped his free arm over his shoulder resting his hand on his chest, "Why're you stressed? Is it  
your meds? Do you gotta get them checked?" He was turning his head so he could look into Ian's  
eyes.

"Shhh," Ian soothed tickling at Mickey's skin and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead,

"Something happened at work." He could feel Mickey's body tense up at the admission.

"What happened?" He asked softly, his voice tentative.

"You know that private I had last night..." Ian began pausing for a moment to take a deep inhale  
off his joint.

"You're fucking scaring me Ian," Mickey stated shifting his weight only to be pulled back into  
position by his boyfriend.

"No... shit. It's nothing bad, Mick. Not really," Ian assured him holding him closer.

"Yeah? Ok," He rubbed his forehead, "Fuck, I wish I could hit that. Goddamn probation."

"Sorry. I shouldn't have... Hang on," Ian took another drag and tilted Mickey's chin up. He rubbed  
his thumb against his boyfriend's lips prompting them to part and craned his neck so he could  
ghost his lips over Mickey's and blow a plume of smoke directly into his mouth.

Mickey inhaled some and blew the rest out giving Ian a grin, "That was sexy."

"Yeah?" Ian asked raising his eyebrows.

"Mmmhmm," Mickey hummed cupping his hand around the cradle of Ian's head and pulling him  
into a lazy, tongue filled kiss, "Now tell me what's up," he ordered releasing his hold and sinking  
his head back down onto Ian's chest, gnawing nervously at his hangnails as he waited for his  
boyfriend to continue.

"Remember that guy and his partner that came in a few weeks ago? That I did a private for and  
said it was weird," Ian began.

"George Clooney and the pervy watcher," Mickey affirmed with a nod, "I remember."

"Well Dustin, the Clooney one, came back last night for a private."

"Before or after we fucked?" Mickey questioned focusing on the makeshift window coverings in  
his sight line. He was glad Ian couldn't see the panic on his face.

"Before. Listen...," Ian coughed a little, "He's an agent. For books or some shit. He wants me to  
write a book about my life and my relationship with Theo."

A hearty laugh escaped Mickey's lips. It was part disbelief and part relief, "You can't be fucking  
serious."

"It's weird, right?"

"You'd be actually writing a book? Or telling someone your story?" Mickey asked. He felt his  
body relax. This he could deal with. It was fucking bizarre, but not bad.

"I think telling someone my story. I didn't really ask," Ian said taking another hit.

"Because there's no way you'd fucking do it, right? Was no point in asking," Mickey shrugged,

"Just funny. Can't imagine you writing a book."

"What are you trying to say?" Ian asked with a laugh.

"Hey, nothing, you're better at writing than me, man," Mickey acquiesced putting his hands up in  
surrender, "Why are you upset about that shit?"

"I know I shouldn't fucking do it," Ian sighed.

"You don't fucking do it," Mickey clarified, "That shit ain't us, Ian. You know that."

"It's a lot of money," Ian stated.

"We're doing alright, paying all our bills, able to save some. Better than I thought we'd be doing,"  
Mickey reassured him, "We're ok. You don't gotta sell out."

"Mickey, it's life changing money for us. 50, 60k. Maybe 200 if they make a movie. I've sold  
myself for a lot less," He grimaced at the thought, but it was true.

Mickey popped up so that he was sitting on his knees between Ian's legs staring down at him in  
disbelief, "You're fucking with me..."

"I'm not," Ian promised.

Mickey rubbed his fingers over his eyebrows and shook his head breathing out a shocked,  
"Wow."

"I know. So much fucking money," Ian said taking Mickey's hand in his and kissing it.

"I don't want you to fucking do it," Mickey said earnestly, "The guy was good to you, right?  
While you were sick and shit."

"He was. As usual, I was the problem." Ian confirmed licking his lips. Like a moth to a flame,  
Mickey leaned down and brushed his lips against Ian's.

"I love you," Mickey whispered, "Rather have you be my fuckin' problem than live without you,  
you know that, right?"

Ian grinned up at him, his eyes dreamy either from the weed or Mickey, probably both, "You're so  
romantic, Mick."

"Shut the fuck up," Mickey groused with a huff, trying to hide the smile that was curling up on his  
lips. He laid back down on Ian in the same position he had been in earlier and the redhead leaned  
over to kiss his cheek.

"I don't know what to do," Ian said reaching over to ash the joint so he could rub both of his  
hands up and down Mickey's muscular arms.

"We'll talk about it," Mickey promised, closing his eyes to relish in the sensation of Ian's touch,  
"but not when you're high and it's 5:30 in the fucking morning."

"Can't sleep without me?" Ian teased.

"You know I can't," Mickey hummed turning a bit so he could get more comfortable and snuggle  
his cheek into Ian's chest, "'m spoiled now," he said sleepily.

"Love spoiling you," Ian said tracing invisible hearts on Mickey's chest with his finger.

Mickey choked out a laugh keeping his eyes shut, "Are you drawing fucking hearts on me,  
Gallagher?"

"I am," Ian confessed with a chuckle.

"That's so gay," Mickey complained but the huge smile on his face revealed he thought it was  
pretty cute.

"Gay like taking a dick up the ass, being in love with a dude, or being engaged to one?" Ian asked  
tickling Mickey and getting a playful punch in his arm in return.

"Who's engaged?" Mickey questioned, settling back in.

"We are," Ian stated matter-of-factly going back to his hearts.

"No we're not," Mickey disagreed biting his lip.

"I asked you to marry me. You said you would. We're engaged. That's how it works," Ian  
lectured, "We just haven't set a date."

"Nah, man, you never asked. You said why you wanted to get married and I said I'd marry you  
someday. It ain't the same," Mickey argued. He was sitting up again, looking down at Ian, who  
was still laying on the couch.

Ian shook his head with a smirk and pulled himself up so he was face to face with Mickey,  
"Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich..."

"Fucking stop..." Mickey warned well aware where Ian was going with this. Ian grinned and took  
Mickey's hands into his, "I'm not kidding, Gallagher. Quit it."

"I love you," Ian continued watching a bright pink blush creep over Mickey's cheeks, "I really,  
really fucking love you. Always have, always will."

"Stop," Mickey whispered shaking his head and licking his lips. He was overwhelmed. It's not  
that he didn't want to marry Ian, he did, but he never thought that he would actually marry a man,  
not in a world that his father lived in. Thankfully that motherfucker was dead.

"No," Ian said pressing on, "Will you marry me, Mick? Please marry me."

"I...," Mickey breathed unable to push the words out. He stared into Ian's green eyes, so alight  
with hope, with love, "You're high."

"You know I'd be saying the same things if I wasn't. You're my everything," those hopeful eyes  
were now pleading, "You're my family. Shit, you had my back more than they ever did. Fucking  
marry me."

"When?" Mickey asked, "when do you wanna..."

"Get married?" Ian interrupted a big smile on his face, "Today, tomorrow, any fucking day after  
that. Summer? Christmas? Marry me."

"Ok," Mickey said quietly looking down at his fingers that were intertwined with Ian's.  
"Look at me, please."

Mickey looked into Ian's eyes, "I love you, I want you...," he swallowed, really fucking overcome  
by the weight of the moment, "to belong to me. I want that. I want to take care of you," his voice  
trailed off, "for you to take care of me too."

"I will. I promise. Forever," Ian's eyes were welling up with tears and Mickey tore his gaze away  
from them. Ian was right there to put his palm on Mickey's cheek and turn his face back towards  
him.

"Stop crying," Mickey warned with a sniff. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

"Are you telling that to me or yourself?" Ian asked with a wet laugh.

"Both," Mickey said with a lopsided grin. He leaned in to press his lips against Ian's. As they  
kissed they could both taste the salt of the other's tears. They'd come so fucking far. "I'll marry  
you," he uttered against Ian's lips, "I love you."

Ian pulled off of Mickey's lips and buried his face into his hands.

"What the fuck, Ian?" Mickey admonished wide eyed as Ian sobbed in front of him.

"I'm so fucking happy," He warbled keeping his face covered, "Seriously, this is the happiest I've  
ever been."

"You're hysterically crying," Mickey pointed out. "If this is happy, what the fuck does sad look  
like?"

Ian looked up with a massive grin, tears still streaming out of his eyes.

"Shit, you're a fucking mess," Mickey teased ruffling up his red hair.

"Your mess, for the rest of your life," Ian said practically pouncing on Mickey, knocking him  
back so he was horizontal on the couch.

They kissed each other hungrily until the angry rumbling of actual hunger interrupted them.

"Was that your stomach?" Mickey asked raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I'm starving," Ian admitted.

"Munchies," Mickey said with a click of his tongue, "Know what I could go for? Pancakes, with  
fuck ton of chocolate chips."

"Shit, that sounds really good. We should go to Patsy's and get them. Celebrate our engagement,"  
Ian suggested peppering Mickey's face with kisses.

"Like you need an excuse," He laughed, smacking Ian's ass and climbing off the couch, "First  
pancakes, second fucking, and then we're taking a nap. I don't even give a shit if you're not tired.  
You're laying there. I need to sleep."

"Ok, fiancé," Ian crooned in a sing-songy tone.

Mickey turned back and glared at him, "Don't. I don't like that."  
"Husband?" Ian questioned innocently.

"Not yet. You can call me 'The Best Fuck I've Ever Had' for now," He replied with a laugh  
heading into the bedroom to get dressed and leaving his fiancé falling over in giggles in the living  
room.

Chapter Twenty-Five: You Quench My Heart

"I'm gonna get a fat ass pile of pancakes. Mmmm!" Ian growled playfully into Mickey's neck as  
they walked towards Patsy's, "They're gonna be so fucking good."  
Mickey patted his cheek with a laugh. "You gonna make it?" He teased bringing his cigarette to  
his lips with a smirk, "Still got a block to go."

Ian stepped behind Mickey and wrapped his arms loosely around his waist, making sure to keep  
stride with his fiancé's pace. "I like 'em stacked," He continued pressing his junk against Mickey's  
bubble butt, "Gonna pour my syrup all over that stack, get it hot and sticky."

"Nasty motherfucker," Mickey said rolling his eyes and grinning, "The fuck am I gonna do with  
you?"

Ian dipped his head around to lay a kiss on Mickey's cheek, "Gotta figure it out. Stuck with me for  
life," He started to hump Mickey's ass, "Fuuuuck I love that ass," He groaned over-dramatically,  
"Perfect fucking ass and it's mine."

Mickey turned with a laugh and shoved Ian off of him, "You lock it down and now you think you  
own it."

"Fuck yeah," Ian confirmed smacking Mickey's sore butt hard and immediately running ahead  
knowing that retaliation was imminent.

"Do you wanna fucking die?" Mickey called after him rubbing his ass soothingly and continuing  
on at his leisurely pace. He was too tired to chase after the flirt.

A couple approaching him, holding hands and coffee cups, gave Mickey epic side eyes.  
"We're gettin' married," Mickey told them with a shrug, "So, you know..."

They just shook their heads with distaste and walked quicker.  
Mickey caught up with Ian outside of Patsy's. The redhead was leaning against the window  
smoking a cigarette, "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, yeah, it's like 4 in the morning, you're way too fucking perky," Mickey groused grabbing  
Ian's cigarette and stubbing it out in the ashtray.

"It's 6:30am," Ian corrected him pulling open the door and intertwining the fingers of his free hand  
with Mickey's.

As soon as they passed through the threshold they heard an excited, "No way!" and saw Fiona,  
beaming smile on her face, bounding towards them, "Hey sweet-face," She exclaimed wrapping  
Ian in a tight hug. Ian looped his arm around Fiona's slim waist, but left his other arm hanging by  
his side, refusing to disconnect his hand from Mickey's.

Fiona hadn't been shy about sharing her opinions on Ian's quick rebound from his broken  
engagement with Theo. The few times that Ian had stopped by for a visit, she had given him so  
much shit, that he found it better to just avoid her completely, that was unless either he or Mickey  
got a hankering for Patsy's chocolate chip pancakes.

Ian couldn't figure out exactly what Fiona's angle was. She wasn't crazy about his relationship  
with Theo because she felt that he had lost himself and molded into who Theo wanted him to be.  
She had admonished him for pulling back from the family, which had made him drift further. He  
accused her of being jealous and envying his circumstances. She never denied it, but it strained  
their relationship, at least for a while.

When Ian left Theo and began building a life with Mickey, Fiona criticized his decision. Her  
dramatic turnaround nearly gave him whiplash. All of a sudden, she was singing Theo's praises  
and revering him for the comfortable life he provided for Ian. He wondered if she wasn't as  
concerned about him losing himself anymore, because she was more concerned about losing the  
money he sent her every month. She had never thought he would leave Theo, especially after the  
years they had spent together. When he did, she was shocked. When she realized that he had left  
him for Mickey, she was appalled.

Ian never understood what Fiona had against Mickey anyway. It was as if she forgot that Mickey  
cared for him when he was sick and devoted his life to Ian far before Ian was worthy of that  
commitment. He couldn't deny that Mickey had been rough around the edges in their youth, and  
maybe he still was in some capacity, but he was the best fucking person that he knew and he  
didn't give a shit if his family didn't see him that way. Mickey was his family now, and truly  
always had been.

"Hey Fi," Ian greeted as Fiona pulled back and put both of her hands on Ian's cheeks.

"You look good, Ian," She said with relief evident in her voice, "Healthy."

"I'm really good," Ian confirmed. He looked at Mickey and read the discomfort on his face. He  
gave him a reassuring grin. "We're really good."

Fiona gave Mickey a half-smile, "Great! C'mon, let's get you guys a table." She led them over to  
an empty booth by the windows. Mickey slid in first and sighed when Ian sat on the same side as  
him. He typically hated when Ian tried to make the 'couple sitting' happen, but if he was being  
honest, he didn't mind it as much this morning. He found himself wanting to be as close to his  
fiancé as possible.

"We already know what we want. Two huge stacks of chocolate chip pancakes, extra whipped  
cream and coffee," Ian told his sister, "Please."

"No whipped cream on mine," Mickey said loud enough to be heard, but Ian felt the need to make  
sure that Fiona got it. Plus, he was excited to share their news.

"No whipped cream for my fi..." He began, earning an elbow in his ribs from Mickey, "No  
whipped cream for 'The Best Fuck I've Ever Had," He corrected himself and they both broke into  
hysterics while Fiona looked at them wide eyed. Mickey was covering his face, shaking his head  
trying to control his laughter, but finding it nearly impossible, while Ian attempted to catch his  
breath, his face bright red, "That's what Mick wants me to call him instead of using fiancé."

"Are you serious?" Fiona asked crossing her arms protectively over her chest.

"I thought it was dumb, too. Even though it's true. He is the best fuck I've ever had," Ian  
chuckled.

"Shut the fuck up," Mickey chided without much scorn well aware that this shit was his doing to  
begin with.

"You two are..."

"Engaged," Ian confirmed.

"Wow," She breathed shaking her head, "That was fast."

"Yeah, cause 15 fucking years is really rushing it. Are we gonna get those pancakes or do we  
gotta go piss away our money at that yuppie place across the street?" Mickey asked raising his  
eyebrows challengingly at his future sister-in-law.

"We'd really love those pancakes, Fi," Ian added softening the edges.  
Fiona licked her lips and nodded, turning on her heels to high tail it away from the table.

"Shouldn't have fucking come here," Mickey groused, "You and your dumbass stomach."

"You suggested pancakes," Ian reminded him. He dropped Mickey's hand so he could wrap both  
his arms around his waist and lean in to connect their lips. He melted in when he felt Mickey  
eagerly reciprocate. His hands were resting on Ian's cheek as he took control of the kiss, sliding  
his tongue past his fiancé's parted lips and tilting his head in the opposite direction so he could  
further explore his lover's mouth.

They kissed like that for longer than they would on any other morning, only disconnecting when  
they heard a waitress turning over and filling up their coffee mugs. Ian didn't turn his head, instead  
he sunk his face into Mickey's shoulder and took a deep inhale, letting out a contented moan as the  
familiar sent permeated his nose.

Mickey shook his head with a slight laugh, bringing his hand up to massage the back of Ian's  
neck, "The smelling thing, man. I don't know about you."

"Best thing I ever put up my nose," Ian sat up with a grin and brushed his lips against Mickey's.

"From most people that wouldn't be such a compliment, but from you...I'm fucking touched,"  
Mickey teased kissing the tip of Ian's nose.

"Honestly, would never do that shit again. Not just because it fucked me up, but what if it like,  
made my nose stop working and I couldn't smell you?" Ian's eyes were wide with dread and  
Mickey couldn't help but notice his pupils were still overtaking most of the green.

"Fucking weirdo," Mickey sighed still rubbing Ian's neck.

"Your weirdo."

"My weirdo," Mickey confirmed rubbing the tip of his nose quickly against Ian's before dipping in  
for another kiss.

"Pancakes," Fiona said loudly dropping the plates on the table with a clank, "Beth wouldn't come  
back over here because she didn't want to interrupt you two."

"Tell Beth that we're not sorry," Ian said cutting a huge slice out of his pancakes and forking it  
into his mouth, "Mmmmm! Oh Fi," he mumbled his mouth full of food, "So good."

Mickey grinned taking a more respectable bite and nodded his agreement.

"They're on me this morning. Happy engagement, assholes."

She got four thumbs up as a reply, while they readily demolished their breakfast.

By the time they got back to the shitty apartment they were both sated and tired.  
"I'm fucking beat," Ian groaned pulling off his hoodie and jeans and throwing himself down on  
the bed.

"Should try sleeping, hear it helps," Mickey teased stripping off his clothes and crawling into Ian's  
waiting arms.

"Gonna sleep, but first I need to taste you," He kissed Mickey's mouth, soft at first and then  
deeper when he felt him respond.

"Taste my mouth, or...?" Mickey asked pushing Ian's head down towards his waist, his intentions  
clear.

Ian laughed softly as he pulled off his own boxer briefs and then Mickey's. Instead of crawling  
between his legs like he typically would to go down on him, he laid on his side, his feet up by  
Mickey's head and his mouth by his dick, leaving Ian's cock, ready and hard by Mickey's face.  
Mickey smirked and turned on his side, too, so he could better reach the redhead's erection,  
"69'ing, huh?" He asked gripping the base of Ian's cock with his hand, "We haven't done this shit  
since we were teenagers and all fucked out, remember?"

"In the van, I remember," Ian confirmed lapping his tongue at the slit of Mickey's cock in between  
words, "You were all fucked out," he clarified grinning as much as he could with the head of  
Mickey's dick in his mouth.

"You try taking this monster non-stop," Mickey said licking his lips and getting them wet before  
he took Ian into his mouth.

Ian sighed at the sensation, "You complainin'?"

Mickey popped his mouth off Ian's cock and replied, "What? Noooo. Never"

"You fucking love it," Ian prompted gripping onto Mickey and pumping him slowly.

"I fucking love it," Mickey confirmed bringing him deep into his throat

"Fuck," Ian groaned trying to gain control of himself as Mickey went to work, "Goddamn. Feels  
so fucking good, Mick."

After a few moments, Mickey let Ian fall from his mouth, "You gonna lay there and moan all day  
or are you gonna suck my cock?" Mickey huffed.

"Oh, shit," Ian laughed, feebly attempting to bring Mickey back into his mouth, but his fiancé had  
other plans.

"You're too easily distracted," He groused, pushing Ian onto his back so his head was resting on  
the bed. Mickey climbed down onto the redhead's body so his mouth was hovering over Ian's  
crotch and his dick was in Ian's face, "Gonna make it so you can't ignore it."

"That right?" Ian smirked grabbing a handful of Mickey's ass in his hand, "Best fucking view.  
Mmmm!"

"Ok, ok, get to sucking bitch," Mickey said with a laugh, supporting himself on his knees and  
elbows and lowering his cock into Ian's waiting mouth. He sighed with satisfaction when he felt  
Ian's tongue swirl around him as he rolled his hips and fucked into his mouth. Content that their  
arrangement was now truly reciprocal, he drew Ian's dick back in and blew him at the same pace.  
It didn't take long for them to work each other to completion, swallowing down what the other  
man gave him hungrily. Mickey licked his lover clean before turning his body around so that he  
was face to face with him. You make me so happy, Ian," He told him earnestly, pushing a stray  
hair off of Ian's forehead.

"Because I just deep-throated your cock like a boss?" Ian joked smiling up at him.

"Because I fucking love you," Mickey said his blue eyes intense, "and I never thought..." he  
turned face away.

"What?" Ian asked resting his palm on Mickey's cheek. Mickey leaned into it closed his eyes.  
"Growing up, I didn't think any of this shit was for me. Never thought I'd have it. Not with, my  
dad, you know?"

"I know," Ian said reassuringly rubbing Mickey's back.

"Then I fell in love with your dumbass and I thought maybe..." He bit his lip, staring down at Ian's  
soft face, "It could be."

"It is," Ian said overcome by his fiancé's honesty, "This shit is for us. We're getting married and  
it's going to be amazing. This is all ours."

"I love you," Mickey breathed his mouth melting into Ian's. They tumbled their tongues tasting  
their own salt on the other man's lips.

Mickey didn't remember falling asleep, but he had, tangled up on his fiancé's arms, dreaming  
about their future.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Swallowed it Down

“Mickey,” Ian called while tearing through his drawers in desperate search of his green booty  
shorts, “MICKEY,” He groaned at the lack of response and started to toss shit on the floor,  
frustrated, “MIKHAILO!!!!!”

“Still on the phone, asshole! What’s the fucking problem?” Mickey yelled back.

“I can’t find my shorts,” He complained opening up Mickey’s underwear drawer thinking they  
may have ended up in there after Mickey did laundry earlier in the week.

“Maybe they got caught in the goddamn lint trap,” Mickey retorted from where he was laying on  
the couch in the living room.

Ian overheard Mickey laugh and then say “Fuck off” into the phone.

“What did she say?” Ian asked, always a fan of Mandy’s wit. He tossed Mickey’s old boxers  
aside, revealing a fat envelop of cash hidden below them. He raised an eyebrow and brought the  
money over to the bed so he could count it.

“She said that that she has to take a cold shower thinking of your ass in a cock sock,” Mickey  
informed him.

“My ass or my dick?” Ian clarified stacking the cash on the bed.  
Mickey didn’t reply.

“Ass or dick?” Ian repeated. $530.

He heard Mickey grumble into the phone, “Gotta go,” and then laugh, “You have no idea, high  
maintenance as fuck” another laugh, “Yeah, yeah, he is. Almost makes it worth it.”

“I’m what?” Ian questioned as Mickey walked into the bedroom. His eyes grew wide when he  
saw the piles of money on the bed. “I’m what?” The redhead repeated seemingly ignorant to the  
shock on his fiancé’s face.

“Hot. The fuck is this, Ian?” Mickey breathed, not wanting to believe it was what he knew it was.

“Was gonna ask you the same thing.” Ian stated licking his lips and looking straight into his  
fiancé’s pale blue eyes, “Why do you have a stack of money hidden in your underwear drawer?”

“Why the fuck were you going through my shit, huh?” Mickey barked angrily storming over to  
the bed and shoving the money back into the envelope, “That’ll get you shanked in prison.”

“You gonna shank me, Mick?” Ian asked rolling his eyes, “I’m just asking. Didn’t think we kept  
things from each other. Do we?”

“We…” Mickey closed his eyes, trying to steel himself, to sift through the thoughts that were  
cluttered in his mind. He didn’t want to do this, talk about this, go there. Not now, not when they  
were so happy. He wanted to stay happy. He didn’t want the complications that came with their  
past anymore, he wanted the hope of their future. He considered lying, saying the money was for  
something else; for anything but what it was for, “don’t. We don’t keep things from each other.”  
Ian looked at him expectantly, crossing his arms over his chest, not angry, but nervous.

Mickey rubbed his hand over his forehead and muttered, “Fuck,” as he crossed the small room to  
drop the cash back into the drawer. He took a deep breath and joined Ian on the end of the bed,  
staring down at the ratty carpet instead of into those green eyes. He didn’t want to admit to Ian that  
the hurt hadn’t left him, that all of the progress they made hadn’t eradicated the feelings of  
isolation and abandonment that still caused him to fall asleep from time to time, in the warm arms  
of his lover, with tears escaping his eyes, dampening his pillow in the silence of their shitty  
apartment.

He didn’t want Ian to know about the nightmares that sometimes woke him from a deep sleep,  
panting and panicked. Of the terrifying memories revisited through dreams that never featured  
Sammi or assholes in lockup, not even Terry; but always Ian, the only person who ever really cut  
deep enough to scar him. He didn’t want to share that the unpleasant images hidden behind his  
eyelids were that of cold eyes averting from his gaze, lips twisted around wry laughter at Mickey’s  
vows for the future, and nervous, wringing hands beyond glass partitions; all frigid, all Ian and the  
iciness that has the capability of coursing through his veins.

“Are you doing something illegal?” Ian asked softly, taking Mickey’s hand into his, “I won’t be  
mad.”

“Shit, no,” Mickey scoffed shaking his head, “Nothing like that. It’s…” He paused, “I’ve been  
saving up. Tucking some money away from every paycheck.”  
They sat in silence for a few moments before Ian broke it, “I think this is where you tell me what  
you’re saving for, Mick.”

“You’ll find out anyway, but I just… I don’t want you to get upset,” Mickey shifted  
uncomfortably, pulling his hand out of Ian’s and rubbing his fingers along his eyebrows, trying to  
get himself to calm the fuck down, “or try to fucking talk me out of it or something.

“You’re scaring me,” Ian admitted, a large lump of emotion beginning to form his throat. He  
reached for Mickey’s hand again and held it tight, “Please.. c’mon. Fucking tell me.”

“I’m getting my tattoo covered,” Mickey blurted out, letting the words hang heavy in the air,  
waiting for Ian to grab them and overreact.

“I thought the foundation that Selena got you covered them well and Luca hadn’t said anything?”  
Ian was confused, “I mean, I love them… they’re you, but I don’t get why…”

“Ian, not on my hands,” Mickey shook his head with a frustrated laugh, “Dumbass.”  
“Wait, you’re talking about…” He rested his free hand on Mickey’s chest exactly where his name  
was scribed under the thin t-shirt.

Mickey nodded, “Yeah, I hate it, man.”

“It’s my name. How could you hate it?” Ian asked carefully, “It’s me.”

“It’s not you. Don’t be fucking dense, Ian,” Mickey scoffed.

“It is me. It’s literally me. Ian Gallagher. Me,” This time it was Ian who dropped the hand he was  
holding.

“Not everything is fucking about you,” Mickey snapped, jumping up from the bed and beginning  
to pace. He glanced at Ian’s bewildered eyes and almost softened, but instead chastised himself for  
still holding the ill-conceived notion that Ian was fragile. Over the past 15 years he had been sick,  
addicted, anxious, up and down, but he’d never been breakable, not really, “So goddamn selfish.”

“Fuck you,” Ian spat back his anger immediate as Mickey pressed the button that he knew would  
hurt Ian the most, referencing the quality that he worked hard to leave behind, that embarrassed  
him because of what it had caused him to do, that he hated to believe had always existed within  
him, “You take every fucking opportunity to remind me of it...that I’m not good like you. Always  
the asshole.”

“Good like me?” Mickey asked with a sarcastic chuckle, “You’re right. People’ve been telling me  
I’m just too fucking good my whole life.”

“I want to punch you in your smug fucking face right now,” Ian said through gritted teeth, shaking  
his head in disgust.

“Now that we’re engaged like a couple of fags, I think that would qualify as domestic abuse.  
What d’you think?”

“Asshole,” Ian muttered cracking his knuckles.

“You think I got so soft that I won’t lay you the fuck out, Gallagher?” Mickey questioned pausing  
from his pacing so that he could look at Ian with his eyebrows raised in challenge, “Throw a  
fucking punch.”

“I’m not gonna punch you,” Ian relented, “I said that I wanted to punch you. It’s different.”  
Mickey couldn’t stop the grin that was pulling on his lips, “This fucking progress or some shit?”  
Ian shrugged, “Fuck if I know. Maybe? Come back here.”

Mickey sighed and sat back down on the bed, bristling slightly when Ian pressed his lips against  
his cheek softly. He was still attempting to calm himself from the anger that had just coursed  
through his body moments before.

“I love you,” Ian said calmly, “Please explain it to me. I’m listening.”

“It’s fucking pathetic,” He said scornfully, “Ain’t ever gonna be that guy again. I look at it and I  
don’t see your name, Ian. I see myself sitting in that jail cell, late at night, shaking like a goddamn  
leaf scared as shit, not because I was in the can with a bunch of junkie assholes and murderers, but  
because I lost your stupid ass. You know how fucked up that is?” He pushed the heels of his  
hands against his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself to continue, “Fuck,” He sighed  
shaking his head. He didn’t want to cry. Not over this, not in front of Ian. What could his fiancé  
do about it now? It just didn’t seem fair to either of them, so he didn’t let the tears fall. He would  
cry later.

Ian intertwined his fingers with Mickey’s and kissed his knuckles one by one waiting for him to  
continue.

“I thought that it would change things when you saw it. I thought that you’d get it...that I was in it  
with you for the long haul, that I didn’t give a shit if you took meds or didn’t take the meds. That I  
didn’t want to fix you,” He swallowed hard knowing that he couldn’t hold the tears back. They  
were falling freely and there wasn’t shit he could do about it, “…that I knew you weren’t fucking  
broken. That I loved you, regardless of any of that shit.”

Ian’s reaction to Mickey’s words was visceral. He felt an intense pain in his chest like knives were  
stabbing into his heart, one after another, tearing it apart, ravaging it until only shreds were left.  
Hearing the words he had said all those years ago, repeated back to him, doused with so much  
pain was agonizing. Instinctively he brought his free hand up to his heart and pressed it against his  
chest firmly, ensuring that his heart was still there, still beating, “I don’t…” he was grasping for  
words, but couldn’t find any. He reached over to wipe stray tears trickling down Mickey’s cheek  
away.

“You don’t gotta say shit, man. Like I told you. This is about me. It ain’t about you at all. Not  
really,” Mickey gnawed at his lower lip anxiously, “Do you get it?”

Ian nodded slowly his green eyes fixed on Mickey’s blues, “I do. I just wish I could go back in  
time.” He paused, unsure if he should share the admission that was on the tip of his tongue,  
“Mickey…”

“Hmm?”

“I got it. I got that. When you did it I knew why. I should’ve told you that. I don’t know why I  
didn’t. I was…,” He shook his head changing his course, “I got it, ok? I should have been better  
to you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not telling you this for an apology, Ian. You’ve already apologized,” Mickey said firmly.

“Told you that I wouldn’t stop,” Ian reminded him, “You know, I thought about it a lot.”

“About what?” Mickey asked leaning over to grab his cigarettes and lighter off of the bedside  
table. He lit one up for himself and one for Ian.

“The tattoo. I guess it meant something different to me,” He admitted bringing the cigarette to his  
lips and taking a deep inhale. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the nicotine to calm him,  
take the edge off, even a little.

Mickey found himself taken aback by the fact that Ian had thought about the tattoo at all, let alone  
that it meant something to him. He didn’t respond, waiting for his fiancé to fill in the blanks, to  
make him understand.

“I saw it as all of that, but also, it felt like a promise. Like somehow you’d find a way back to me.  
That I’d be yours, belong to you, all that shit I told you about. That you’d belong to me,” Ian  
confessed, “It felt like that to me. That’s how I thought of it.”

“I mean, you were with another guy,” Mickey stated matter-of-factly, “If it meant that to you, why  
didn’t you wait?”

Ian sat there quietly, dumbfounded by the question, unable to answer. Mania, cocaine, numbing,  
reaching, failing, flailing, floundering, falling, fucked up; there were so many words, but none  
would come to his lips. So instead he pulled one from deep in his soul, the only word that really  
scared him, the one that felt like the truth instead of an excuse, “Selfish.” He felt a tear fall from  
his eyes and his lips quivering, “Cared about me more than I cared about you. Selfish.”

To Ian's surprise, Mickey smiled and wrapped an arm around his neck pulling him in closer. He  
raked his other hand through his red hair, ruffling up the tresses and pressed his lips against Ian’s  
slack jawed mouth, sliding his tongue in, wanting. It took a few moments for Ian to kiss him back,  
thoroughly confused by Mickey’s reaction but not complaining. They kissed like that until they  
both felt short of breath, satisfied to let themselves escape the difficult conversation.

“What was that for?” Ian asked as Mickey pulled off of him.

Mickey shrugged, “I think it turns me on when you call yourself selfish,” He teased with a grin.  
He put his hand on Ian’s cheek and patted it, “Honestly, it really fucking means something to me  
that it meant that to you.”

“You thought I just never thought of it?” Ian questioned in disbelief.

“I thought you never fucking thought of me,” Mickey replied plainly.

Ian shook his head and closed his eyes like he couldn’t fathom how Mickey could have thought  
that, but he could. Why would he think any differently? “I know you’re gonna do whatever you  
want about the tattoo, but I love it, Mick. I really fucking love it. Every time I look at it it smacks  
me in the fucking face and reminds me of what an incredible man I have. How much you love me,  
have always loved me. I see how lucky I am. Your devotion to me. You hate it, I get that. I really  
do, but I love it.”

Mickey sat silently, eyes traveling around the room, trying to digest the slew of words that Ian just  
threw at him. Quietly, he rose to his feet and walked over to the corner of the room and tossed a  
pair of green shorts towards Ian, “Found them.”

Ian smiled, “No shit.”

“You’re a fucking slob,” Mickey responded watching as Ian stood up, dropped his sweatpants  
pulled on the shorts, and then pulled his sweatpants back on.

“Thanks, I’m gonna be late,” He sighed, “I should probably get going.”

Mickey nodded, “I’ll think about it, ok?”

“I don’t want you to keep it if you hate it,” Ian said sternly, “I really don’t.”

“You love it…”

“I do, but I love you more,” Ian assured him leaning over and pecking him on his lips sweetly,  
“I’ll see you later, ok?”

“Not gonna make it tonight, gonna clean this shithole after a ginger tornado came through and tore  
through all our drawers,” Mickey said with a smirk.

“I’ll miss you,” Ian said honestly. He hated when Mickey didn’t show. He grabbed his backpack  
and headed out the door towards the El. His mind was still spinning from the emotions of the  
conversation with Mickey. He hated his job. He wanted Mickey to know how amazing it was to  
see your name on the body of the person you love. He wanted that for Mickey, wanted him to  
have that but he couldn't get a tattoo of a man's name while he was dancing. It killed the fantasy  
that paid their bills. He shook his head in annoyance and jumped on the train.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Acting Right

"The lounge has been packed all night," Ian informed Tim as the bartender slid him a water bottle.  
He took a long swig of the cool liquid, needing to hydrate after the record number of laps he'd  
grinded on over the last two hours.

"You making bank?" Tim asked raising an eyebrow, "Tell some of those assholes to come in  
here. It's been slow."

"Shit, sorry," Ian said sympathetically, "Hope it picks up."

"Heard a rumor about you...," Tim began with a smirk.

"Oh yeah?" Ian asked curiously raising his eyebrows, "Seems like there are always rumors about  
me. Which one you hear?"

"That you and Mickey got engaged," Tim said grinning, "that one true?"

A big smile took over Ian's face, "Yeah, that one's true."

"Congratulations, man. That's really great," Tim reached over to shake Ian's hand, "You two are  
fucking adorable together."

"Don't tell Mickey that," Ian said with a laugh, "How'd you hear?"

"Sam told me. We've been talking since Mickey introduced us a few days ago," Tim confessed,  
his cheeks tinting pink, "He's pretty awesome."

"You're blushing," Ian teased, "Mickey Milkovich, matchmaker, who would've thought? He  
seems cool, man."

Tim nodded his head in agreement, "I'm definitely into him."

Ian clicked his tongue suggestively three times and then gave Tim a playful punch in the arm,  
"Have fun. I gotta go do a private."

Tim grimaced and rolled his eyes, "Hope it goes quick."

"Thanks. See ya," and with that Ian was heading up the stairs to the VIP section, ready to get this  
shit over with. He rapped lightly on the door of VIP 1 before turning the handle and entering the  
room.

Ian was surprised to see Marty sitting on the couch, sipping a drink, and looking far too  
comfortable. His dark eyes drank in Ian's body as he licked his lips salaciously. "Hey, I was told I  
had a private," Ian began tentatively, all of his South Side instincts clicking into auto-drive. Shit  
was off and he didn't fucking like it.

"You do. With me," Marty responded pushing his greasy black hair out of his face. Marty was  
probably a good looking guy back in his day, but time had been unkind to him leaving deep  
wrinkles on his tan skin and wreaking havoc on his metabolism.

"You want me to dance for you?" Ian questioned, raising his eyebrows suspiciously.

"It's what you do for a living, isn't it?" Marty retorted snidely. He gestured to the IPod and  
speakers in the corner, "Something slow and sexy, but don't take too long to get that cock out. I've  
waited for that shit for long enough."

Ian narrowed his eyes skeptically wondering where the fuck Marty was going with this. If he  
thought he was going to get a hand or mouth on his dick he was sadly mistaken. He sighed and  
turned the music on determined to get this dance over with and get back out to the anonymous  
laps he had been working before he was interrupted for this brutally uncomfortable situation.  
He began to move his hips to the hip hop song that filled the room, not deviating from the patterns  
he drew with his body in each of private sessions. Keeping his eyes locked on Marty's he allowed  
his mind to escape to a different place, a mechanism he utilized since his younger years.  
Removing himself from his body, he allowed it to be a vessel, forfeiting ownership to the moment,  
the music, the client.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of the green shorts that Mickey had found earlier that  
night and peeled them off of his body in as sultry as a manner he could muster. If Mickey knew  
Marty was pulling these shenanigans he would beat the shit out of him, fuck up his parole and get  
thrown back in prison for lord knows how long. He couldn't tell him, couldn't risk it, couldn't lose  
him again. The thought of being away from Mickey made the tightness that was already present in  
his chest nearly vice like in its grip.

"You've been blessed, Red," Marty commented appreciatively, his eyes trained on Ian's manhood.  
Ian didn't respond verbally, instead he dropped his hand down to his cock and gave it a few  
pumps, willing it to stiffen. It wouldn't. He climbed onto Marty's lap and began to grind against  
him.

"You always give your dances flaccid?" Marty scoffed, "Surprised I haven't gotten complaints."  
Ian continued to move his body, keeping silent as he did so. He didn't want to engage. He wanted  
to get through this; do his job and leave the room.

"Been hard for you for years, Ian," Marty stated, "Thought we would've fucked by now. I see the  
way you look at me."

With disgust? Ian thought but instead of going there he said softly, "I'm with Mickey, man. You  
know that."

Marty licked his lips and rested his hands on Ian's bare ass. He seemed intent on ignoring Ian's last  
statement, "I typically don't have to make the first move. Figured you would've gone for it during  
our little 'checks.' I noticed how you could barely breathe when I was that close to you. You were  
so worked up for me."

"I was trying to stop myself from punching you in your fucking face," Ian snapped, jumping off of  
Marty and grabbing his shorts off of the ground. He pulled them on hastily, refusing to make eye  
contact with the pervert on the couch.

Marty seemed nonplussed by Ian's statement, pressing on. "I know that pint size thug owns your  
ass, Red. He's been cock blocking me for years," He was standing up now, unbuckling his belt,  
"I'll admit, I was intimidated by him when he could do shit to me. Now...," He sucked his teeth,  
"not so much. He's stupid but he ain't dumb enough to fuck up his probation."  
Ian shook his head in revulsion as his boss pulled down his black pants.

"Suck," He demanded looking at the redhead expectantly. His hard dick was in his hand ready for  
Ian's mouth.

"Fuck you," Ian spat, making his way to the door.

"Ian...," Marty's voice was heavy with warning, "You blow me or you lose your job. Up to you."

"How about I go to Kyle? What would he think of this?" Ian countered with acid dripping off of  
his tongue. He needed this job and he was sure the owner wouldn't take kindly to a manager  
demanding a dancer give him head to keep his job.

"Think he'll believe his loyal friend of 20 years or a notorious tabloid slut?" Marty challenged  
brazenly looking from Ian's eyes to his own cock, "Get on your knees."

"I'll take my chances," Ian said slamming the door behind him. He knew Kyle would be in  
tomorrow afternoon. He'd go see him then.

As he headed back to his locker, thoughts of what he would've done years ago if the same  
situation had presented itself swirled in his mind. He shook his head queasy with the realization  
that his actions would have been very different.

He needed to get home to Mickey; hold him, be held by him, let his fiancé's smell quiet his mind,  
take him all in. Feel safe.

When Ian got home he found Mickey fast asleep on the couch of their now spotlessly clean  
apartment. Ian stood there watching him for a few minutes enthralled by the simple sight of his  
fiancé sleeping.

When he really stopped and looked at Mickey, like in moments like this, he felt like his heart  
would explode from holding an amount of love that was sure to be beyond its capacity. Ian knew  
feeling love in your heart was common, but he felt it elsewhere, too. It shot down to his fingertips  
and touched his toes, it found its way to the roots of his teeth and the spaces between his ribs. He  
was consumed by it. Every cell in his body loved Mickey Milkovich.

He kicked off his sneakers and kneeled next to the couch so that his face was right next to  
Mickey's, the brunets breath fanning over him as he leaned in closer. He tucked his nose under  
Mickey's ear and took a deep inhale before whispering as softly as possible, "Baby..." Typically  
the term of endearment only passed through his lips during throes of passion, but seeing Mickey  
so vulnerable, so gentle, so safe made it feel right, so he said it again, "Baby."

Mickey's eyes fluttered open slowly and a grin curled at the corners of his full lips, "Missed you,"

He rasped, his voice still asleep, "Give me a kiss."

Ian pressed his lips against Mickey, sweet but insistent, making him feel his love, "I love you, you  
know that?"

"I know that," Mickey hummed closing his eyes again and sighing.

"Come to bed, baby," Ian said laying his hand gingerly on Mickey's cheek and drawing another  
smile onto his lips.

"I love you," Mickey cooed. Ian laughed lightly, pretty sure that Mickey was completely out of it.

"Come on," He said rubbing Mickey's back, trying to rouse him from his slumber.  
Mickey inhaled a deep breath and sputtered it out, sitting up and staying there for a moment to get  
his bearings.

"Thought you couldn't sleep without me," Ian teased as they walked into the bedroom and Mickey  
threw himself down on the bed, quickly situating himself on the pillow and pulling the comforter  
up around his face.

"Can't, not in the bed," Mickey said with a yawn, "'s too big."

"Does this mean that we're never gonna get a bigger bed?" Ian asked with a grin, stripping off his  
clothes and climbing into bed. Being wrapped around Mickey almost made him forget the  
shitshow that happened at work.

"Never," Mickey confirmed pulling Ian inhumanely close to him and resting his forehead on the  
redhead's chest, "Need you close."

"I love you," Ian said running his fingers through Mickey's hair and kissing each of the fingertips  
on Mickey's hand. He didn't get a reply, instead he heard slow and steady breathing and cursed  
the fact that he was going to ruin their morning in just a few hours.

When Ian heard Mickey's alarm go off, he realized that he hadn't slept at all. He'd stayed in the  
same spot, holding Mickey, and worrying. Worrying about how Mickey was going to react when  
he told him about Marty, how they were going have enough money to pay their bills if Ian really  
did lose his job after going to Kyle, worrying about the book deal and how now it could be a  
savior, even though morally he knew it was wrong. Worrying.

He closed his eyes when he felt Mickey stir, wanting to buy himself just a few more minutes.  
Mickey kissed his cheek and rolled out of bed to get ready for work. While he was in the shower,  
Ian went to the kitchen and cooked breakfast. Mickey emerged some time later in his all black  
duds and smiled at the food waiting for him on the table.

"Thanks," He said sitting down, beginning to eat the pancakes. Ian was pacing nervously, "You  
got ants in your pants, Firecrotch?"

"I'm gonna tell you something, but you gotta swear that you're not gonna do anything stupid," Ian  
warned. Mickey dropped his fork and raised his eyebrows, "Promise me, Mick."

"Spit it out," He demanded gnawing on the inside of his cheek nervously, "Now."

"Marty bought a private with me last night. Was creepy as shit. Told me to suck his dick or I'd  
lose my job."

"You didn't," Mickey said, it was closer to a statement than a question.

"Of course I fucking didn't," Ian confirmed, but his fiancé was no longer in his seat. He was  
storming into the bedroom. Ian followed him and saw him pull open the bottom drawer of his  
nightstand. "What are you doing?"

"The fuck does it look like I'm doing?" Mickey asked slipping brass knuckles onto his shaky right  
hand. He could feel the rage flooding through his body like a tidal wave. He was seeing red.  
Literally. Visions of blood pouring out of Marty's face were all he could focus on. He was going  
to make the motherfucker bleed.

"Stop. Stop, Mickey," Ian cried frantically trying to grab his fiancé's shoulders so he could attempt  
to calm him down, but Mickey wasn't having it.

"No fucking way that fucking potbelly piece of shit is going to pull this with you. No fucking  
way," He growled shaking his head and tearing into the living room.

"Where are you even going?! He's not at work."

"So I find him at home," Mickey said pulling on his jacket.

"Stop," Ian demanded grabbing his shoulders hard and staring into his face, "I'm going to take  
care of this, ok? You're not gonna fuck your probation over some greasy scum bag. Stop."  
Mickey was biting his lip, shaking his head and pacing now, "There's a guy Len, owes me a  
favor. He'll put two bullets in that potato head of his and dump the motherfucker in the river." He  
rubbed his forehead anxiously, "But I wanna..." he groaned, "Fuck."

"Look at me," Ian said forcefully getting in front of Mickey again, "Nobody is gonna get killed.  
I'm gonna go talk to the owner this afternoon. Tell him what happened. He'll take care of it. I  
know he will." He was lying. He had no clue how Kyle would deal with it, but it was worth a try.  
Mickey pulled one of his signature 'what the fuck' faces and shook his head, "You're fucking done  
there, Ian. Done, done, done. You go in there and you fucking quit. You're done."

"Mick, we need the money," Ian reminded him.

"You're done," Mickey yelled, "I'm not fucking with you, Gallagher. You go in there and quit."

"But..."

"Done," Mickey insisted trying to catch his breath.

"I'll quit," Ian assured him, "I'll take care of everything ok," He stood in front of Mickey and  
rubbed his hands up and down his arms, attempting to soothe him.

"Fucking probation," Mickey groused rubbing his forehead, "He'd be fucking dead."

"I know. I know," Ian said with a nod, "I can't lose you. I can't."

"I'm not gonna do anything stupid," Mickey decided still feeling the brass knuckles between his  
fingers, "But fuck do I want to." He looked into Ian's panicked green and sighed, "I won't, ok?"

"Thank you," Ian breathed, keeping his hands on Mickey, keeping him steady.

"You alright?" Mickey asked, worry taking over for his anger. He dropped the brass knuckles off  
his hand with a clank and tenderly cupped Ian's cheek, "I'm sorry."

Ian leaned into his touch and sighed, "I'm ok. Just tired."

"We'll be fine, ok? You're done there."

Ian nodded his agreement.

"Fuck, I gotta get to work," Mickey sighed exhausted from the spike of emotions.

"I'm gonna go back to sleep," Ian informed him, giving his red-faced fiancé a kiss, "I'm fucking  
beat."

As he was headed back to the bedroom he heard Mickey call after him, "Quit. Today. No more  
old man balls. We're liberating you, Gallagher."

Ian laughed despite himself and crawled back under the covers. He was about to close his eyes  
when he got the impulse to scream back, "Don't fuck with him, Mick. I'm serious."  
Silence.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Just Beginning

Ian woke up from his nap a few hours later thinking instantly of Mickey. He couldn’t even begin  
to recall how many times he woke up with that man on his mind over the last 15 years. It was  
probably easier to think of the handful of times Mickey wasn’t the first thing Ian thought of when  
he opened his eyes.

He felt both solace and terror that he had shared what had happened the night with Mickey. Marty  
was a fucking nightmare, but the true horror would be Mickey breaking his parole to mess the guy  
up. He wasn’t worth it. Ian could hear Mickey’s voice clear as day stating, ‘but you’re worth it.’  
He shook his head and reached for his phone. He typed the message quickly, frantically, silently  
praying that his fiancé had gone to work like he said he would.

-Just woke up. Still working?-

He stared at the blank screen watching as the minutes passed, getting more anxious the longer it  
took for Mickey to reply. He was probably just serving lunch. He couldn’t fuck around on his  
phone while he was on the floor.

He let out a heavy sigh of relief when he received a reply.

-Yeah. Glad you rested. Love you. CU soon.-

Ian smiled rolling the phone between his hands. The Mickey of his past would’ve been impulsive,  
reactive, reckless, and out the door to bash Marty’s face in within minutes. He fucking loved that  
Mickey, but this Mickey, this Mickey was even better; protective of Ian, but also protective of  
himself. Maybe Ian was getting it, too. He had always wrapped armor around himself, but now,  
he was learning how to shroud Mickey in protection as well.

He should have been in a shitty mood from the harassment he had endured the night before, but  
for some reason he felt like he was floating on air. He was free. Happy. In control. It was a good  
day and he was going to make it even better. He practically bounced out of bed, brushed his teeth  
and fixed his hair just enough. Nobody gave a shit about his appearance today, least of all him. He  
assessed his 5 o’clock shadow in the mirror, glad to not have to shave it. Maybe he’d grow a  
beard. Nobody could tell him not to. He threw on a pair of worn in jeans, his hoodie and sneakers  
before heading out the door.

It was a beautiful late April day. The sun was shining, the sky was cerulean, and there wasn’t a  
cloud to be found. It was warming up, too. Summer was around the corner. Ian felt his heart begin  
to race. Maybe he and Mickey would get married in the summer since it was their favorite season.  
Mickey hated the snow and basked in the heat. He especially enjoyed seeing Ian in as few clothes  
as possible. Ian loved the summer because everything felt lighter, more alive. They were definitely  
going to get married this summer Ian decided; he just had to convince Mickey. His cheeks hurt.  
He reached up to his face and realized that all of his thoughts were displayed on his face in the  
form of a huge smile. He was excited.

He pulled the door of the shop open and greeted the blue haired girl behind the front desk.

“How can I help you?” She asked pleasantly.

“Here to get a tattoo,” Ian responded, thinking of the last time he uttered those words and what a  
different place he had been in.

“Great. What are you thinking? Any idea of what you want?”

“Real simple. Just my fiancé’s name in script on my collarbone.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” She smiled, “I’m Jane, I’ll be doing your ink.” She reached her hand out to  
shake Ian’s, “Come on back.”

Ian followed the petite woman to her station near the back of the shop. There was another artist  
working on an older man a few seats down. Jane gestured for Ian to take a seat and he did.  
Needles usually made him nervous, but he felt more than ready for this.

“So, do you want to write it out, or do you want me to?”

“Definitely you,” Ian replied with a laugh, “My handwriting is chicken scratch. Just want it to  
look nice, you know, stretched out so it goes over most of the bone.”

“I can do that,” She assured him, “I’ll stretch it out like taffy, make it a little romantic.”

Ian nodded, “Yeah, that sounds good, but not too swirly.”

“Manly romantic,” Jane said with a grin, “I can do that.”

“That’s the way we like it,” Ian said smiling back.

“What’s her name?” Jane asked tapping her pencil against her knuckles.

“His name’s Mickey, spelled the same way as the mouse,” Ian responded, a gleam caught in his  
eye as he thought of how annoyed Mickey would be by that statement.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have assumed,” Jane began, clearly embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” He said waving it off.

“Like the mouse, M-I-C-K-E-Y…” She was singing in spite of herself.

“M-O-U-S-E,” Ian finished with a smirk, “Yeah, like that.”

She turned to the counter and sketched out Mickey’s name incredibly quickly, presenting it to Ian  
for his approval. He grinned and nodded, pleased with the work.

The tattoo itself only took about twenty minutes, but after it was completed and etched into him,  
Ian couldn’t imagine what his skin had looked like before it. In that short time, he felt so many of  
his wrongs, righted. It was perfect.

Jane told him to keep the gauze on it for a few hours and went over care instruction with him,  
“Thanks for sharing your story with me,” She said as she walked Ian to the door, “It’s probably  
the most powerful love story I’ve ever heard.”

Ian laughed a little and was going to slough of the compliment, but he didn’t because he believed  
it, too. Their story was incredible. Jane had prompted Ian to tell her more and more about their  
relationship as she was working and reliving it all was extremely cathartic. He wondered if she  
always prompted her clients to talk about their lives when she gave them a sentimental tattoo. It  
added something to the experience, made it even more meaningful, if that was even possible.  
He paid Jane with some of the cash he made the night before. He was glad it had been extra busy,  
because he made more than he typically did. He probably should have saved it, now that he was  
technically unemployed, but he needed to this, for Mickey and for himself.

He had one more place to go before he headed home. He could feel his hand twitch in  
anticipation. He pulled out his phone and shot off another text to Mickey. He had been checking  
up on him more than usual, just making sure that he didn’t do anything rash.

-ETA?-

The response was almost immediate.

-FU ur annoying-

Ian laughed and shoved the phone back in his pocket. It vibrated it as soon as he did and he pulled  
it back out.

-Soon. Miss you.-

Ian texted back an emoji of an eggplant and heart eyes and received a middle finger back.

The ride on the El felt longer than usual, probably because he was so anxious to get to the club.  
As he walked through the doors, for what he knew would be the last time, his head was spinning.  
So much shit had happened between those four walls, but he wasn’t sad to say goodbye to the  
building, to the job, to any of it. The money was good, but his pride was worth more, Mickey was  
worth more.

He made his way back to Marty’s office, not bothering to knock on the door as he usually did. He  
swung it open and saw Angelo on his knees giving the greasy asshole head.

“What the fuck!” Marty cried, shocked to see Ian bounding into the room.  
Angelo sat wide eyed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand and watching the scene unfold.

“Just wanted to tell you I quit,” Ian said mater-of-factly.

“You forget you were fired?” Marty chided tucking himself back into his pants, “You came all the  
way up here from the slums to tell me you quit, when I already fired you?”

“Nah,” Ian replied with a sigh, “Came up here for this.” He pulled his arm back and landed a  
crushing punch into Marty’s jaw taking the man by surprise and knocking him to the floor. He laid  
in the fetal position gasping for breath, dark red blood pouring from his mouth, “That was for me.”  
He leaned down a bit, put his hand on Marty’s shoulder and kicked the man hard in his gut, “That  
was for Mick.”

Marty groaned in pain as Angelo shrieked, “He’s dying! SO much blood.”

Ian laughed wryly, “Toughen up, man. It’s a busted lip.” He paused and looked down into

Angelo’s panicked eyes, “You know you don’t have to do this.”

Angelo shrugged, “You got someone to help with your bills.”

Ian took a deep breath and let it out with a nod before turning his attention back to Marty, “Make  
sure my last paycheck’s in the mail, prick. If I gotta come back for it, I’m not coming alone.”  
Marty shook his head agreeably, still writhing on the floor in pain.

“And that money from our ‘private’ needs to be in there, too. Plus interest.”

“Interest?” Marty grunted.

“Yeah, interest. Like, if you’re interested in me keeping my fiancé away from your ass, you better  
throw in a few extra bucks,” Ian reasoned with a smirk, “You know he’s not as nice as me, right?  
Told me this morning he wasn’t worried about going back to prison if it meant putting two bullets  
in your head.”

Marty shook his head, “You’ll have your money.”

“Good,” Ian patted his greasy head, “Glad we agreed on the terms.” And with that, he was out.  
The ride back to the shitty apartment felt longer than the trek to the club. He was dying to see  
Mickey. He’d accomplished so much that day and the only thing left to do was to cuddle up in  
Mickey’s strong arms, lay with him remembering that nothing else mattered.

Though his first inclination was to do just that, as soon as Ian entered the apartment, he excused  
himself to the bathroom and pulled off his sweatshirt. He carefully removed the gauze from his  
collarbone and looked at the backwards image in the mirror. It was perfect. It was a realization that  
he could be that person, he could be like Mickey; devoted, selfless, giving. He could be better than  
he had ever been before, exclusively for the person whose name now adorned his skin. He was so  
sure of the sentiment and the promise that it represented, but was surprised how vulnerable he felt  
now, standing alone in the bathroom, staring at the decision he made without consultation. It was  
out of the ordinary for him to not look for guidance or permission.

He put himself in Mickey’s shoes. He couldn’t imagine how nervous he had been all those years  
ago to reveal his tattoo to Ian. He didn’t have the benefit of knowing that Ian loved him when he  
exposed himself, so raw. Ian benefited from the knowledge that Mickey had already made these  
promises and he was still overwhelmed. He splashed cold water on his face before heading  
shirtless into the living room. Mickey glanced up from the television towards Ian and then back at  
the movie on tv before doing a double take, his mouth dropping open, “Ian…” He began  
astonished, “What did you do?”

“You like it?” Ian asked shyly, his feet planted to the floor.

“C’mere, let me see.” Mickey held up his arms and gestured that Ian should take a seat on his lap.  
Ian straddled his fiancé’s legs, his breath hitching in his throat as Mickey ghosted his finger over  
his name now written prominently on Ian’s pale skin. He wanted to repeat his question, ask him  
what he thought, but he couldn’t find his voice, so he just sat there as Mickey stared at his new  
tattoo.

“Why?” was all Mickey could manage to say after a few moments, his eyes still focused on the  
tattoo.

“I love you,” Ian told him softly, “Want you to know that.”

“I know that,” Mickey assured him, “You didn’t have to….” He paused gnawing at the inside of  
his cheek, “this isn’t, I mean, I’m not sure if you thought this would make me keep mine…”

Ian shook his head emphatically, “No, it’s not about that. This is about me loving you, wanting it  
to be there forever. Love you forever. That’s it. I wanted to get it, so I did.”  
Mickey nodded and looked up at Ian, his smile making its way up to glow in his blue eyes, “I love  
it. I really fuckin’ love it.”

“You do?” Ian asked sighing out his relief.

“Mmm, it’s fucking sexy as hell. Seeing my name on your body,” He swallowed hard, “You’re  
right. It does something to you.” He rested his fingertips just outside of the redness that was  
surrounding the fresh tattoo, “I just…”

“What?” Ian prompted, tilting Mickey’s chin up so that he was looking in his eyes again, “You  
just what?”

“Listen,” Mickey cleared his throat, “was thinking about this today. When I say shit fucking  
around about owning your cock and shit like that, does that you know, bother you?”

“Huh?” Ian asked confused, “What do you mean? No, I love it. I love that you talk like that…  
think that.”

“But I don’t think that. I’m crazy about every part of you, but every part of you is yours, you  
know?” He shook his head, “I don’t know if this is coming out right.”

“I don’t think it is,” Ian said slowly, “I have no clue what you’re trying to say.”

“This stuff with that fat fuck, the dancing, you’ve been dealing with shit like this for years, Ian.  
You’ve,” He sighed, “Shit” Ian could see him desperately searching for the words, “always given  
yourself away in so many ways.”

“Are you calling me a slut?” Ian bristled beginning to climb off of Mickey, “because none of that  
shit with Marty was my fault. I didn’t fucking ask for it.”

“NO, stop,” He grabbed Ian’s waist and pulled him back down, “I’m saying that I want you to  
know that I respect you and shit. You never have to do that with me, give yourself away. I don’t  
want you to take jobs where you do it either. I want you to do things with your body cause you  
wanna do them. You’ve never been able to do that. It’s always been men at strip clubs fucking  
drooling over your ass, pressuring you, your Bipolar leading you, fuckers you’ve been in  
relationships with… you’ve always used sex… your body. I want you to know it’s yours. It’s not  
mine. Even with this…” He looked back at the tattoo, “It’s yours.”

“I want it to be yours,” Ian promised him, “All of me… yours.”

Mickey took a deep breath, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to do things like this,”  
He gestured to the tattoo, “to make me happy, for me to know you love me. You do them because  
you want to.”

“Mickey, I’ve never been more myself with anyone. You…,” He licked his lips, drawing Mickey  
immediately to his lips. He smiled into the kiss.

“I what?” Mickey asked against his lips, “Hmmm?”

“Complete me,” Ian said unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. Mickey shoved Ian off of his  
laps with a grin.

“Fucking dumbass.”

“You love it.”

“Sometimes,” Mickey relented, “Since your down there, you could always… you know, only if  
you want to. Full autonomy.”

“I want to,” Ian said with a smirk crawling towards Mickey, “I own that cock, whether you like it  
or not. You’ve gone soft. Not me.”

“Yeah, how soft am I?” Mickey challenged raising his eyebrows as he pulled down his  
sweatpants to allow his hard cock to spring out, “Don’t look so soft, do I, Gallagher?"

Ian wrapped his hand around the base of Mickey’s dick and began to lap at the head.  
“What the fuck happened?” He frowned, watching as Ian’s busted up knuckles twisted around his  
cock.

“Quit the club,” Ian responded continuing to lavish Mickey with his wet mouth.

“So you tell me not to go and beat the shit out of the guy, but you do?” Mickey scoffed and then  
sighed as Ian cupped his balls.

“I’m liberated. A whole new Ian Gallagher. Autonomy. Control,” Ian informed him dropping his  
hand from Mickey, “Making decisions about my body, who I want to blow, who I want to punch,  
who I want….”

“Ok, whole new Ian Gallagher,” Mickey interrupted, “Control that mouth and get back to  
business. I have a lot of pent up ass kicking energy you gotta suck outta me.”

“I mean, I don’t have to,” Ian teased bringing Mickey back into his mouth.

“I try to be fucking nice,” Mickey jeered tangling his hand in Ian’s red tresses.

“Now I’m gonna be nice,” Ian flirted, taking him fully down his throat, causing Mickey to moan  
out his pleasure.

“Sit up a little, let me see the tattoo,” Mickey prompted pulling Ian up a bit. The redhead  
readjusted and Mickey sighed, “Like that… fuck, that’s so hot.”

“You like it? Mmmm.”

“Fucking love it.”

“Fucking love you.”

“Keep going,” Mickey encouraged, unable to take his eyes off of his name, “Think you should get  
a bunch of those V-neck shirts, so it shows all the time. I wanna see it all the time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, love it.”

Ian grinned around his cock and continued to work his fiancé towards his climax finding that he  
was in a state of wonderment that this was his life. Fucked up shit happening hardly affected him  
anymore. He could face all of it with Mickey. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t running. He was right  
fucking here in this moment, not going anywhere else. Now it was written, and it would never be  
done.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Best I Ever Had

"Hey sleepyface, get up," Mickey said shaking Ian's shoulder a bit, earning a groan from his  
fiancé, "C'mon, you gotta jump in the shower, Mandy's gonna be here in like 10 minutes."

"'m good," Ian slurred sleepily, "Just hand me my sweatshirt."

"Fuck, you're a nasty slut," Mickey said with a laugh, "You got my crusty ass cum all over your  
chest. Get in the shower. I'll strip the bed." He gave Ian another shake, this time harder, "C'mon."  
Ian let out an seriously over-dramatic groan as he stretched his arms out wide and yawned, "I'm  
fucking beat."

"From what, man? Me workin' hard to provide for your ass all week or me riding your cock like a  
fucking stud all night? What exactly wore you out?" Mickey teased beginning to pull the sheets  
off even though Ian was still lazing in bed.

"Hey! I cook, clean, and search for jobs between marathon sessions of Doom," Ian retorted with a  
laugh, "I'm working hard."

It had been a few weeks since Ian quit his job and he'd been having difficulty locking something  
else down. Fiona offered him a job at Patsy's but there was no way he was going to work for her  
again. Even though both Ian and Mickey realized it was probably an absolutely terrible idea for  
them to work together, he had interview with Luca on Monday for a busser position at the catering  
company. It's not that they didn't get along well, they did minus their near constant bickering, but  
the last time they worked together they spent half the time fucking in a freezer and the other half  
paying attention to each other rather than the work. The catering company wasn't the Kash and  
Grab and the money was important to fuck around; literally or figuratively. They could control  
themselves now, right? They were adults after all.

"You gonna shower with me?" Ian asked standing up and wrapping his arms loosely around  
Mickey's waist. He leaned down and started kissing the soft skin behind his ear, just the way he  
liked it. "Have a quickie before we have to be celibate for the weekend?"

"Who the fuck says we gotta be celibate? I didn't sign up for that shit."

"Mandy and Olivia are going to be sleeping, like 10 feet away, the walls are thin like paper and  
you're loud as shit," Ian reasoned dropping a hand down so he could cup Mickey's semi over his  
sweatpants, "No fucking."

"Mmm," Mickey hummed in appreciation of Ian's fingers and the work they were doing through  
the material, "If that bitch is too cheap to stay at a hotel, she hears what she hears. Still don't  
understand why she couldn't say with Iggy. The house is bigger than our place."

"Selena's sisters are staying there," Ian reminded him sucking a mark onto his pale skin.

"I'm gonna have hickeys in all the pictures like a 14 year old, you fucking Hoover," Mickey  
laughed shoving Ian away.

"And you give a fuck?" Ian challenged with a smirk, "C'mon, I'll Hoover you in the shower,"  
He pulled Mickey's hand trying to lead him to their bathroom but Mickey shook his head in  
refusal, "Sorry, Gallagher. Gotta throw the sheets in the wash and set up the pull out."

"When'd you get so domestic?" Ian questioned lightly stripping off his boxers.

"When I started living with your messy ass," Mickey chided, "You do realize you don't have  
maids anymore, right?"

"I mean... I kinda do," Ian retorted lifting his eyebrows and earning himself a 'fuck off' and raised  
middle finger from his fiancé.

By the time Ian was out of the shower he heard voices chattering excitedly in the living room. He  
grinned to himself sure that Mickey was pissed about being stuck in a room with talkative girls.  
He loved him cranky. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed out to greet his best friend  
and her roommate.

"There he is," Mandy exclaimed jumping off of the pull out Mickey had set up from them so she  
could hug Ian. When she loosened her grip she let her eyes settle appreciatively on his collarbone,  
"It looks even better in person."

"Yeah? Thanks."

"Ian you remember my friend Livvy, Liv Ian," Olivia stood up to shake Ian's hand.

"I do, but I don't believe I ever met his abs," She ducked down a bit and said 'hey there' to Ian's  
bare stomach drawing a laugh out of both Mandy and Ian and a unimpressed eyebrow raise from  
Mickey.

"When'd you meet?" Mickey questioned trying not to sound put off. It didn't work.

"I went out to visit Mandy a few times," Ian stated, very sure that the statement wasn't going to go  
over well with Mickey.

"Ah," He nodded, thumbing his knuckle against the side of his nose, "Went out to New York,  
huh?"

Mandy read the tension in the room almost immediately and quickly changed the subject taking a  
seat on the pull out again, "So, Liv and I need to go get skanky dresses to wear to the Pan club  
tonight."

"What? Did you misplace your whole wardrobe?" Mickey taunted.

Mandy shot her finger up at her brother and raised one eyebrow as Ian settled his damp towel clad  
ass onto Mickey's lap, facing away from him so he could still be a part of their conversation. She  
watched Mickey 'humph' a bit, clearly unhappy about Ian's priorities in the past but soften as soon  
as Ian intertwined his hand with Mickey's. Her brother dropped his lips to Ian's bare shoulder and  
laid a sweet kiss on the skin. Ian twisted his neck so he could see Mickey's face and the two men  
exchanged a few quiet whispers before pressing their lips against one another's for a kiss.

"Shit, you guys are super cute," Olivia gushed pulling her thick black hair into a top knot. She and  
Mandy could pass for sisters, if not twins, excepting their different hair color. Olivia looked like a  
blast from the past version of Mandy and it tripped both Mickey and Ian out.

"Not always. My little bro was closeted as fuck," Mandy informed Olivia.

"First off, I'm older than you," Mickey began only to be cut off by Mandy.

"I meant in height," She clarified with a smirk.

"I'm only shorter than you when you wear your fucking stripper heels, you trick ass bitch,"  
Mickey spat.

Ian covered his mouth with his hands to conceal his laughter and sputtered, "Man, I missed this."  
Mickey pinched at the ticklish spot under Ian's ribcage causing him to laugh harder.

"Second," Mickey continued, "You do remember our prick of a father, right?"

"I try to forget," Mandy stated plainly, "Speaking of forgetting, how's Lip?"

"Still an smug fucking asshole," Mickey replied, getting another laugh out of Ian, who shrugged  
his agreement.

"I thought we weren't asking about him," Olivia reminded her friend, resting a hand on Mandy's  
knee.

"I know, I know," Mandy relented with a sigh, "It's just Chicago. So many memories here."

"Shitty ones," Ian added, "Shitty memories."

"You two dickheads don't get to tell me about anything that has to do with the past," She informed  
them, "It took you like two seconds to run back to each other and get engaged."

They couldn't really say much back so Ian decided that now was as good a time as any to go and  
get dressed.

"We're going to Michigan Ave, you gonna come?" Mandy asked as he rose from Mickey's lap.

"Can't, I gotta help Selena move some shit over to the church," Ian replied apologetically.

"Ouch, picking the soon to be Milkovich over the OG. Fucked up, Gallagher," She teased, "Don't  
forget that you were mine first."

"I'm always yours, Mands," Ian said leaning over to kiss the top of her head.

"Don't tell Mickey, he's a jealous bitch," Mandy taunted as Ian laughed his way back to their  
bedroom. Mickey responded to Mandy with his typical one finger salute.

"You should come with us, Mickey," Olivia suggested sweetly.

"Umm, I'd rather fucking die," He said matter-of-factly, "And I gotta work a brunch." He pulled  
his wallet out of his pants pocket and handed Mandy $60.

"For my dress?" She exclaimed, "That's really fucking nice, Mick."

"No, uh, can you do me a favor?" He asked rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Depends..."

"You know those v-neck shirts that Ian wears sometimes. Can you pick up a black one or a dark  
green one or something? Maybe both? Long sleeved."

"Is this so you can see his tattoo?!" Olivia squealed, "I can't even with you two. Too fucking  
adorable."

Mickey shot her his signature 'What the Fuck' face and turned back to Mandy, "I think he's a  
medium."

"Probably a large," Mandy disagreed.

"I like 'em tight, ok? Get him a fuckin' medium and get the fuck out," He snapped, his face turning  
a pale shade of pink. Mandy laughed heartily at her brother's embarrassment and signaled for  
Olivia to follow her out of the apartment.

*

By the time Mickey could get in the shower, he was aggravated to find that his houseguests had  
used all of the hot water. A one bedroom, one bathroom apartment was way too small for 4  
people. He reminded himself that it was only for a few days as he dabbed some cologne behind  
his ears.

"Smell so good," Ian hummed coming up behind him and pressing his front against Mickey's back  
allowing his arms to drape over his fiancé's shoulders , "Always smell so good."

"You gotta change," Mickey stated clearing his throat.

"I figured a button down was good," Ian said with a frown, "What d'you know about the dress  
code at a pansexual strip club anyway?"

"I don't even know what a pansexual strip club is," Mickey scoffed. He pulled away from Ian and  
tossed him a plastic bag, "Here."

"What's this?" Ian asked, his eyebrows flying up his forehead, "Gap?"

"Just open it," Mickey directed impatiently.

Ian pulled out a black shirt and grinned, "For me?" He questioned.

"Guess so. Try it on," He was trying to sound blasé but he couldn't keep the eagerness out of his  
tone.

He watched as Ian unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing and dropped it to the ground. "So?" He  
asked once the shirt was on, "Feels a little tight.

"Nah," Mickey disagreed taking in how sexy Ian looked in the dark tight shirt, the neckline  
prominently displaying Mickey's new favorite feature of Ian's. Well, third favorite feature, if he  
was being honest, "Fucking love it."

It took seconds for Mickey to rub his hands over Ian's chest and press his lips against his  
collarbone. He never gave the space the attention it deserved before, now he got off on lavishing  
the skin there with kisses, licks, sucks, touches, everything.

"Yeah?" Ian breathed feeling himself get turned on by his fiancé's vehemence.

"Mmm," Mickey hummed his confirmation, "Not gonna be able to keep my hands offa you  
tonight." He snaked his arm around Ian's neck, cradled his head in his hand, and pushed him  
down aggressively so he could shove his tongue into the redhead's mouth. Ian sucked and licked  
at it like it was his lover's cock until they heard an insistent banging on the door.

"Let's go, fuckers! Cab's here," Mandy yelled.

"Don't.." Ian breathed clutched Mickey's grey button down in his fist.

"Don't what?" Mickey asked his lips still ghosting over Ian's.

"Keep your hands off of me tonight," He rasped hotly leaning into the kiss again.

"Stop fucking," Mandy screamed incessantly knocking.

They reluctantly removed themselves from each other's hold and headed out to get the night over  
with both already itching to get back to their bubble.

*

"This is already fucking weird," Iggy complained as they waited in line to get into it he club, "ain't  
ever had to wait to get into a place."

"That's because you only go to shitholes," Mandy informed him adjusting the strap of her silver  
sequined dress. "This look ok?" She asked Olivia anxiously.

"Totally bangable," Olivia reassured her spanking her ass playfully.

"Gallagher, you're looking particularly gay tonight," Iggy said straightening his messy blonde hair  
a bit.

Selena and Mickey both shot off at the same time with: "He's just jealous, don't listen to him" and  
"fuck off" respectively.

"You're looking particularly homeless," Ian retorted with a grin. He turned to Selena, "Are your  
sisters meeting us here?"

"Oh no," Selena said with a laugh, "Valentina and Isabela are WAY too catholic for this place.  
I'm totally the black sheep," She paused, "They can't wait to meet you though."  
Iggy and Mickey both rolled their eyes unimpressed.

"Me too," Ian said companionably giving Selena his biggest, brightest smile. Mickey hooked his  
finger in Ian's belt loop, prompting the redhead to drape his arm around Mickey's shoulders

"I can't fucking take them," they heard Olivia whisper to Mandy with an amorous sigh.

"Their codependent as fuck," Mandy whispered back her voice dripping with honey instead of the  
judgement that would typically go with the statement, "I think they just missed each other, have to  
make up for lost time."

"We can fucking hear you," Mickey groaned, "We're right fucking here." Ian kissed his cheek  
while rolling his eyes at Mandy.

They were waved to the velvet rope by a buff bouncer, "So you know the deal?" He asked the  
group causing all of them looked at him dumbly in response.

"We got male strippers in the North room, female in the South, and a dance floor with a DJ in  
between," He said robotic and disinterested, "$20 gets you in."

"A cover?" Iggy blurted unimpressed before coughing up the money.

As soon as they got through the doors, Iggy was in game plan mode, "Alright, since I'm literally  
the only person here who likes tits..." he began but was cut off by Selena insisting that she also  
liked tits, "You don't count," he told her, "We came here so we could be separate. Anyway, men,  
you come with me to the tits."

"No way!" Selena complained, "Ian's with us. You can take Mickey. No offense, Mick."

"Yeah, none taken," He said shoving his hands into his pockets.

"You in, man? All my boob loving brothers are in the can. You gonna take one for the team?"

Iggy asked elbowing Mickey in a fashion that he found incredibly annoying.

"So I paid $40 to watch some girls bounce their pussies while my fiancé watches dudes swing  
their cocks around. Cool," Mickey said sarcastically.

"Wait, your what?" Selena cried wide eyed.

"You didn't tell Selena you guys were engaged?" Mandy asked with a bit of pride in her voice.  
Mickey clearly wasn't the only jealous ass Milkovich.

"No! O.M.G," She screeched jumping up to give Ian a hug, "We're gonna be siblings!!!"  
Olivia rested her hand soothingly on Mandy's shoulder well aware that her future sister-in-law  
annoyed the piss out of her.

"Yeah, so now you gotta quit fantasizing about Gallagher taking you to Poundtown. Incest isn't  
best," Iggy teased.

"Shut up," Selena tsked shaking her head at Iggy in disapproval.

"The fuck?" Mickey groaned as Selena pounced on him for a hug, "Alright, alright," he tapped  
her back indicating that the hug was going on too long.

"We're fucking celebrating! How great is this, Mands? Family!" Selena had moved the hug chain  
to Mandy and she didn't look too pleased to be wrapped up in the perky girl's arms.

"Fucking phenomenal," Mandy said her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"She's not that bad," Ian assured Mandy as Selena grabbed Olivia's hand and started leading her  
into the male stripper room.

Mandy just rolled her eyes in response and followed the other girls.

"C'mere," Mickey prompted pulling Ian close to him. He brought his hand up to Ian's cheek and  
laid a soft kiss on his lips, "This fucking sucks."

"We could always just stay in the middle and dance," Ian suggested with a smirk.

"Yeah, that's not happening," Mickey said with a grin, "Bought you the fucking shirt and I'm not  
even gonna get to enjoy it."

"Stop pouting," Ian laughed kissing Mickey.

"Make me," Mickey challenged raising his eyebrows. An invitation.

Seconds later Ian was tugging at Mickey's bottom lip with his teeth and sliding his tongue into the  
brunet's mouth.

"Awww come the fuck on," Iggy groused from the side of the kissing couple, "Let's go, Mick.  
You can ride him later." Mickey shot up his finger, continuing to make out with his fiancé until  
they broke apart panting for breath.

"Gonna drink a little," Ian informed him running his thumb over Mickey's well kissed lips.

"Don't go overboard, ok?" Mickey urged him quietly.

Ian kissed Mickey one last time before joining the girls in the male section.

When they reconnected a few hours later, Mickey wasn't thrilled with the state that he found his  
fiancé in. Ian was faded off his ass, having taken way too many celebratory shots.

"Really, Mandy?" Mickey chided as he helped a wasted Ian into the cab.

"Fuck you, duuuude," Mandy slurred back, obviously inebriated herself, "He's a grown ass man,  
and it wasn't me."

"It wasn't," Olivia confirmed drunkenly from the front seat as the cab began to head back to the  
South side, "It was your future cunt-in-law."

A chorus of giggles broke out in the cab, the driver himself getting in on the fun.

"Holy fucking shit," Mickey sighed shaking his head and staring out the window. He wasn't  
drunk enough for this. Not even close.

"Gonna make you scream that real soon," Drunk Ian assured him beginning to nip at his fiancé's  
ear.

Mandy and Olivia began to howl like rabid wolves, breaking into fits of laugher between their cat  
calls, "I know this is creepy..." Olivia began.

"Then don't fucking say it," Mickey warned, really fucking over this shit.  
Olivia zipped her mouth shut for the rest of the ride.

Mickey tried really hard to seem distracted and uninterested but Ian's hand persistently rubbing at  
his crotch was having effects on him. He tried to knock Ian away a few times, but when he kept  
going, Mickey finally gave in and readjusted himself so the redhead could have at it.

By the time they got back to the shitty apartment, Mickey was hard as a rock and more than ready  
to get fucked. "Pants off, Firecrotch," He ordered locking the bedroom door behind them. Ian  
stripped off his pants and was starting to remove his shirt when Mickey grabbed his wrists, "Keep  
it on."

Ian smirked and nodded as Mickey dropped to his knees in front of him. The brunet was surprised  
that Ian wasn't even semi hard and started to perform all of the tongue tricks that typically drove  
Ian wild.

"Really?" Mickey chided, beyond annoyed, "Whiskey dick?"

Ian shrugged, "Sorry, Mick, it's not gonna happen. Too fucked up."

"Uggghhhh," Mickey groaned with frustration throwing himself down on the bed dramatically,  
"Fucking awesome. Now I got blue balls."

"I'll suck you off," Ian offered climbing over Mickey and unbuttoning his pants.

"Don't want head. Want a cock pounding my ass," He was practically pouting now.

"Any cock?" Ian asked his eyes going full puppy dog.

"Your stupid cock, dumbass."

"Don't insult the cock. You love the cock."

"Don't fucking remind me. Hey- where are you going?" Mickey asked watching as Ian made his  
way over to the closet.

"Getting assistance. Calling for backup," Ian informed holding up their box of toys like it was  
Simba in the Lion King.

"Shit, you're drunk."

"Really drunk," Ian confirmed grabbing what he wanted from the box and kicking aside.

When he climbed onto the bed holding two pairs of handcuffs, Mickey raised his eyebrows  
skeptically, "You forget your cock's on vacation?"

"Nope. I got plans," Ian said securing the handcuffs around each of Mickey's wrists and then  
clicking them tight around the slats of their headboard.

"You make me like handcuffs. How fucked up is that?"

"Pretty fucked up," Ian confirmed with a grin, "You're about to get pretty fucked up."

"Oh yeah?" Mickey asked feeling his dick twitch, "You gonna ride me with a soft cock?"

"Nope," Ian said reaching for the lube on Mickey's night stand. He slicked up his fingers and  
circled them around Mickey's hole at at a brutally slow pace, randomly running them over his  
opening every so often, making Mickey gasp in anticipation.

"What are you gonna do?" Mickey asked his voice stuttering as Ian continued to tease him.

"Gonna finger you 'til you cum all over yourself," Ian informed him licking his lips mischievously.

"Gimme a kiss," Mickey prompted, just as he always did.

"Uh, uh." Ian shook his head.

"Ah I see," Mickey nodded, his eyes gleaming with excitement, "And the handcuffs?"

"So you can't touch yourself, of course...," Ian smirked dipping a finger ever so slightly into  
Mickey's hole, causing his fiancé to buck up his hips and demand more.

"You think you can make me cum untouched with only your fucking finger?" Mickey laughed,  
"Yeah good luck with that, man."

"Don't need luck, got skills," Ian replied confidently.

"Is that right?" Mickey asked raising his eyebrows. He received a nod of confirmation from Ian,  
"Alright then, Gallagher, show me what you got." He settled his head back a bit more so it was  
comfortable on the pillow and sighed as Ian continued to work his hole with the one finger, "This  
is nice, pretty relaxing. Could probably fall asleep," Mickey taunted, trying to conceal the fact that  
he was desperate for more.

"You're pretty mouthy for a guy bound to the bed," Ian said shaking his head with disapproval.

He added another finger and began to move them in small circles and then large, changing up the  
pattern so Mickey didn't get too used to it.

"You could get mouthy if you want," Mickey suggested lifting up his hips so his swollen cock  
would get some attention.

"Nah, you said you didn't want me to suck you off, remember?" Ian picked up his pace and  
grinned as his fiancé began to writhe from the sensation, "Too bad, too. Was gonna swallow you  
down real good. Really fucking hungry for your cum."

"Yeah?" Mickey gasped staring with hooded eyes at Ian in that tight as V-neck, hot ass tattoo on  
display.

"Mmmhmmm."

"Go ahead then. Put it in your mouth. I'll give you a good load. Fill your cheeks up," Mickey  
began, attempting to persuade him, "or I could shoot it right down your throat, coat you all the  
way down, you'd like that."

"I'd love that," Ian agreed, "but you denied me." He produced an exaggerated pouty lip to which  
Mickey rolled his eyes, pretending that he wasn't desperate to bite it.

"This ain't gonna work, Ian. I had a good amount to drink, too. Not gonna get off on you prepping  
me for a cock that's not gonna come," Mickey complained rattling the handcuffs with annoyance.

"Shut the fuck up," Ian groaned, his words causing Mickey to narrow his eyebrows and purse his  
lips in surprise. Before he could spit out a witty comeback, Ian added a third finger to the mix and  
started fanning them out rhythmically with each revolution he traced.

"Shiiit," Mickey moaned despite himself, "What the fuck are you doing down there?" He tried  
and failed to situate himself to her a better view.

"Like that?" Ian asked salaciously.

"Uhh, yeah, oh shit. Fuck yeah," Mickey sputtered as Ian picked up speed.

"Tell me how much you like it," Ian demanded, bringing his fingers into a Boy Scout salute. He  
laughed to himself thinking that some of the shit he learned in the scouts had come in handy after  
all.

"I fucking love it. Only you, you motherfucker. Only you could turn me the fuck out with your  
goddamn fingers," He stopped to punch out a crazy loud moan as Ian starting fucking into him  
hard with those three tightly held fingers, "Holy shit." The force of Ian's hand was shoving his  
body back with each thrust, "Uh, uh, uh." Mickey was panting and groaning rhythmically now.  
The bed squeaked with every flick of Ian's wrist.  
And then it all stopped.  
"You don't like it enough," Ian sighed.

"No, no, I fucking love it," Mickey was desperate, his hands rattling the metal cuffs compelled to  
drop down to his leaking cock, "I'm close, baby. Please, please, keep going."

"You mean you're close to cumming untouched just from my fingers?" Ian asked in mock  
surprise.

"Real fucking close," Mickey assured him, biting hard on his lip, "Kiss me."

"Can't. I'm busy," And with that Ian shoved one finger deep into Mickey to massage his prostate.  
Mickey's mouth dropped open into a perfect "O" as he began to see stars, "Ohhhh" he keened  
from the pressure.

Ian dropped his mouth open and let two short, teasing "Ahhhs" escape while lifting his eyebrows,  
"You're fucking soaking yourself, Mick. Haven't even properly cum yet and you got yourself all  
wet."

"You can lick it up, man. Get me nice and clean," Mickey suggested his legs beginning to spasm  
from Ian's constant focus on his most sensitive spot, "Know you're my fucking cumslut."

"Mmm I do love your cum," Ian agreed, considering abandoning his challenge so he could get  
mouth on Mickey's now glistening erection, "But I promised. Gonna make you cum untouched."

"So fucking do it then," Mickey ordered his blue eyes burning with desire.

One by one, Ian added his other two fingers and pulsed them against Mickey's prostate. He smiled  
a naughty smile and watched as Mickey's legs trembled and shook with the sensation. Keeping up  
the pulsing rhythm he brought his other hand to Mickey's perineum and started to massage it with  
an intense pressure.

A slew of loud "fucks" flew from Mickey's mouth as his whole body began to quake, "Fucking  
touch it, fuck, please."

"You're gonna cum for me, just," a pause to push "like" and another, "this" and with one final  
press of pressure Mickey was wailing through one of the most intense orgasms of his life. Ian  
dropped his mouth to Mickey's stomach and began lapping up the mess he made.

He was barely on the planet anymore so he was surprised to hear loud laughter from the living  
room and Mandy yelling, "You have to be FUCKING kidding me?"

"Don't be jealous," Ian called back between swallows.

"You're fucking dirty as hell," Mickey cooed appreciatively, running his fingers through Ian's hair  
as he continued to lick him clean.

"You're fucking hot as hell," Ian hummed, "Taste so good."

"Yeah?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Bring your mouth up here then," Mickey said licking his lips.

Ian flicked up his eyebrows and crawled up Mickey's body so he could slowly push his tongue  
into his fiancé's mouth. Mickey kissed him back eagerly, intoxicated by the taste of Ian, himself,  
and how insanely hot it all was. "You gonna let me out of these things?" Mickey asked when Ian  
pulled off.

"You know where the key is?" Ian asked with a guilty look on his face.

"You better be fucking with me. I swear to Jesus, Ian..."

"I'm fucking with you," Ian said with a laugh, reaching down by his feet for the key.

"Fuckin' funny guy," Mickey chided rolling his eyes as Ian loosened the cuffs.

"The funniest," Ian agreed, gasping with laughter as Mickey jumped up and put him in a  
headlock.

"And so humble too," He teased.

"Always," Ian chuckled biting at Mickey's wrist so he'd release him.

"Love you," Mickey said dipping around to lay a kiss on Ian's lips.

"Always," Ian repeated with a grin.

Chapter Thirty: Change the Pace

Mandy groaned and pulled the pillow over her head, desperate to drown out the racket coming  
from the other room. As if the rhythmic squeaking of the bed springs and chorus of muffled moans  
weren't enough, she could hear her brother chanting a slew of curses and some of the dirtiest shit  
she'd ever heard. Occasionally the bed would find reprieve as the two men laughed at something  
and then the "eh, eh, eh" of an overworked mattress would fill the air again. "How long has it  
been?" She groaned to Olivia who was laying next to her, fucking around on her phone.

"38 minutes," She replied, "I'm guessing they have another 10 in them."

"You underestimate them," Mandy said rising up from the pull out they had been sleeping on and  
stretching her arms over her head. She was dressed only in one of Ian's T-shirts and a pair of black  
lace underwear. "Want some coffee?"

"Yes please," Olivia said turning over on her stomach, grinning as she watched Mandy loudly  
open and close all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen, partially to find the coffee but mostly  
to remind Mickey and Ian that they had guests, "So, who... you know, takes it?"

"My dear brother," Mandy responded beginning to scoop out the coffee into the filter.

"Hmmm," Olivia considered, "wasn't expecting that. So he's the loudmouth then?"

"Yup," Mandy said with a grimace, "I can't think of a shittier way to wake up. A raging hangover  
and listening to my brother get his ass slammed.

Olivia said with a smirk, "I sorta like it."

"You would perv!" Mandy rolled her eyes and flashed her friend a smile.

"Your phone's ringing again," Olivia informed Mandy glancing at the vibrating IPhone laying  
next to her in bed.

"Who is it?"

"Lana."

"Fucking kill me," Mandy complained.

"Should I answer? She's been calling you for like an hour."

"Nope."

"She sent a text."

"What's it say?"

"Tell your dickhead brother to call back or I will cut off ball sack," Olivia read aloud. She raised  
her eyebrows, "She sounds positively charming."

"That was actually pretty tame," Mandy said as she poured four mugs of coffee.

"No shit. You got a pretty wild crew here in the Chi."

"This isn't even the half of it, girl," Mandy agreed handing Olivia her mug.

"Fuck, right there, right there. Holy.... fuck," Mickey's voice cut through the room. The broken  
phrase was punctuated by a fulfilled moan followed by panting and groaning from Ian.

"I win," Olivia said proudly, "48 minutes."

"We all lose," Mandy disagreed. She sipped her coffee and watched as Mickey hightailed it to the  
bathroom.

"Good morning!" Ian greeted coming into the room with an incredible amount of pep in his step.  
He pulled on his white wife beater and shot a beaming smile at his houseguests, "How'd you guys  
sleep? The pullout ok?"

"Pullout's fine." Mandy stated, "The problem was the horny motherfuckers that woke us up with  
their loud banging this morning."

Ian laughed, kissed her on the cheek, and grabbed a mug of coffee, "Always wake up so cranky,  
Mands." He grinned at Olivia, "How do you deal with moody Mandy every  
morning?"

"I mostly just ignore her until she's consumed two cups of coffee," Olivia responded, earning a  
stuck out tongue from her roommate.

"You know shit's messed up when Mickey's the happiest Milkovich In the house," Ian said  
spanking Mandy's ass lightly. She shoved him away from her with a laugh.

"Yeah, well he had a dick up his ass, so...."

"Is that what you need then? To cheer you up?" Ian teased raising his eyebrows.

"You offering?" Mandy asked from the rim of her coffee cup.

"Wait, wait, wait," Olivia said sitting up quickly, "Have you two ever...?"

"I wanted to at first," Mandy said with a laugh.

"And..." Olivia prompted.

"Ian's gay," Mandy responded matter-of-factly like it was the dumbest question ever.

"100% gay," Ian confirmed.

"Better fuckin' be," Mickey said coming into the room in his sweatpants and hoodie, towel drying  
his wet hair.

"I think he proved it to your asshole this morning," Mandy said dryly.

Mickey threw up his middle finger at his sister and took his coffee off the counter. He took one sip  
and spit it out with a sputter, "The fuck?"

"We don't like it strong," Olivia explained with a shrug.

Mickey rubbed his forehead as if he was trying to erase his houseguests from his mind, "Listen, I  
gotta go see Svet. Called me like 200 times this morning."

"She texted Mandy that if you don't call her back she's gonna cut off your ball sack," Olivia  
informed Mickey.

"What did you do?" Mandy asked pointedly.

Mickey shrugged, "Fuck if I know." He dumped the rest of his coffee in the sink and kissed Ian  
quickly, "I'll see you soon."

"Good luck," Ian said, taking a moment to admire his fiancé's ass as he exited the apartment  
before sitting down on the living room chair, "This should be interesting."

"She still being a bitch to you?" Mandy questioned sympathetically.

"The worst," Ian confirmed, "But Yev seems to be warming up."

"That's Mickey's son, right?" Olivia asked.

They nodded.

"You gotta put in some good words about me tonight," Ian told Mandy.

"So you want me to lie?" She asked with a smirk. Ian rolled his eyes and Mandy stuck out her  
tongue, "I will. I will. Promise."

"Don't know how a 9 year old can scare the shit out of me, but he does," Ian admitted. He'd seen  
Yev a few times since their Doom date and though Yev would actually look at Ian now, it was  
clear that he wasn't exactly thrilled to be around him.

"I mean, he came from Mick and Svet. He was bound to be a little bit of a dick," Mandy said with  
a shrug.

Ian grinned.

"So tell me more about this book thing," Mandy prompted, "Mickey mentioned it on the phone  
last week, but as you know he's a man of few words."

"Unless he's getting fucked," Olivia filled in, "Seems like he's pretty talkative in the sack.  
Ian shook his head with a light laugh and Mandy flicked her friend's ear groaning "Don't remind  
me. I almost forgot!"

"For me it's totally 'hashtag never forget'," Olivia said with a giggle. Ian winked at her and she  
averted her eyes quickly, her cheeks turning a dark hue of pink. A few moments later she excused  
herself to take a shower deciding that she couldn't be in the room with the redhead any longer.

"So the book...?" Mandy asked laying down on the pullout and patting the space next to her.  
Ian crawled into the bed and pulled the comforter up around his neck, "I know it's fucked up to  
even consider it, but it's so much money, Mandy."

"So much money," She agreed reaching over to push a stray hair off of his forehead.

"It would take us years to pull in that much cash working low paying jobs," Ian reasoned, "And I  
don't even have a job right now. We're doing ok, but that's only because Mick's busting his ass so  
we can pay all our bills. It would just make things so much easier."

"I know Theo's a decent guy. He was good to you, I get that, but you gotta do it, Ian. Mickey told  
me he's against it, but you can't listen to him. He's too South Side, too loyal," She sighed, "You  
and me, we've both been out there. We saw the way things work, how the code doesn't apply to  
wealthy people who are willing to sell each other out for the next big check. Mick hasn't seen it,  
he doesn't get it."

"I'm just... fuck," He rubbed his fingers in a circle over his temple, "It's not even just Theo. The  
whole idea of being that exposed, after everything. I'm sick of it. I don't want that anymore. I want  
quiet and easy."

"Poor? Struggling?" Mandy questioned, "Opportunities like this don't present themselves to  
people like us. You've been lucky. You went places, saw things that people from this  
neighborhood could never dream of. Mickey hasn't. Don't you want that for him?"

"That's not fair," Ian said shaking his head.

"Doesn't have to be fair to be the truth," She replied, "I love you. I secretly love him," She  
smirked, "Doesn't he deserve to have it a little easier for once? You guys could buy a shithole  
house in the neighborhood with that money. Cash. No rent, no mortgage. Don't you think that  
would take some pressure off of him? Off both of you?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ian responded softly.

"When do you have to tell the guy?"

Ian shrugged, "Not sure. He didn't give me a timeline. It's not like they could get someone to fill in  
for me, you know? I'm just really trying to think it through. We are. I'm not gonna do anything,  
Mickey wouldn't agree with. We've had enough shit to deal with, don't need things to be more  
complicated."

"So get him to agree to it," Mandy suggested.

Ian let out a laugh, "Have you met your brother? He's stubborn as hell."

"Stubborn about everything but you," She stated resting her hand on Ian's cheek. She smiled, "I'm  
happy."

"Yeah?"

"Mmmhmm, don't tell Iggy and Selena but I'm way more excited for your wedding," Mandy  
beamed.

Ian grinned, "Can you believe we're getting married?"

"It's been a really fucking long time coming, but no, I can't. When are you guys thinking of doing  
it?"

"Not sure. I'm hoping soon. I'm into the idea of summer," Ian replied his eyes looking dreamy.

"If it's going be summer, we better get planning! Does Lip know I'm gonna be the best man?"  
Mandy asked grabbing her phone, "Let's look up venues..."

Ian narrowed his eyes at her and she threw up her hands to show innocence.

"Cheap venues," She clarified as Ian nodded his agreement and readjusted his position so he was  
comfortable for a morning of impromptu wedding planning.

*

As soon as Svetlana opened the door she laid a hard smack upside Mickey's head.

"Ouch. The fuck was that for?" He shot grabbing he back of his head.

"You do not find it important to mention to your son that you are getting married?" Svetlana  
questioned retying her silk robe and closing the door behind her so she was standing on the porch  
with Mickey, "You want him to hear tonight from other people without first hearing it from your  
mouth?"

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal," Mickey said with a shrug.

"Oh yes?" Svetlana asked, sarcastically raising his eyebrow, "Do you not think it would matter to  
Yev? I know you are not as stupid as you look, but when it comes to orange asshole, you are as  
stupid as you look, and that is very stupid. You should have talked to him before you promise you  
will marry."

"Now I'm passing shit by a 9 year old? Don't need his fucking permission," Mickey spat shaking  
his head in disbelief as he tapped his last cigarette out of the carton and lit it up.

"You do not think this affects him? What will he be to Yevvy, this man who leaves? Stepfather?  
For how long? How long until he runs again? Ran from you, ran from him, he will run, and then  
what of Yev? How do you explain this to him?"

"He ain't gonna run," Mickey said softly, "Not like that anymore."

"He ran from last man he promised to marry, now promises you so fast. He will run. Then what of  
Yevgeny?" Svetlana repeated. She pursed her lips awaiting an answer that didn't come. Mickey  
just stood there smoking and staring across the street at a couple planting flowers in their front  
yard.

"This will be confusing for him," Svetlana continued in a more tentative tone than Mickey was  
used to hearing from her.

"You live with a dude and his wife!" Mickey exclaimed, "Shit doesn't get more confusing than  
that."

Svetlana shook her head, "He has known them for whole life. Not orange asshole. He made this  
choice. What will he be to Yev?"

"He'll be my...," Mickey choked on the word, finding it harder than he expected to say, "husband.  
He'll be his dad's husband."

"You can't even say this Mickey," Svetlana tisked, "You are used to getting pressured into  
marriage. I know this."

"Fuck you," Mickey growled full of venom, "You don't know shit."

"I know too much," She corrected him.

He sighed and shifted his weight uncomfortably, "He around? I'll talk to him."

"He is finishing his breakfast, you can come in."

"Not comin' in. Send him out here when he's done," Mickey replied taking a seat on the step. He  
had no interest in immersing himself in the Ball/Fisher/Milkovich house of horrors.

Svetlana was going to argue, but thought better of it, instead opting to head back inside. A few  
minutes later, Yevgeny joined Mickey on the step.

"So you're startin' baseball next week, huh? You excited?" Mickey asked causally looking over  
his son who was messing with his shoes laces.

"Should be ok," He replied plainly, "You gonna come to my games?" He was looking at Mickey  
now, his blue eyes hopeful.

"'Course," Mickey said with a nod, "Lookin' forward to seeing you play, kid."

The corners of Yev's lips turned up on a slight grin, "Cool."

"So," Mickey cleared his throat, "Your uncle Iggy's gettin' married tonight."

"Yup, I'm a part of the wedding. Holding the rings or something. I told mom that I'm too old for  
that, but she's making me do it," He rolled his eyes and huffed.

"It's kinda an important job, though, right? I mean, if you fuck up and lose the rings they can't get  
married or some shit."

"Really?" Yev asked wide eyed.

"No, not really, but it's important," Mickey assured him, "Anyway..." He couldn't believe that  
broaching the topic with his kid was so damn difficult, "I'm getting married, too."

"Tonight?"

"Nah, not tonight, but probably soon," Mickey replied.

"Who are you gonna marry?" Yev wondered.

"Ian," Mickey responded trying to hold back the look of confusion that was dying to make its way  
across his face.

"I didn't think that was, like, allowed..." Yev said biting him lip, a nervous habit that must have  
been genetic because he did it in a way that was positively identical to his father.

"It is," Mickey sniffed rubbing his nose with his knuckle anxiously, "Yev, you realize that Ian and  
me, we aren't friends, right? That we're gay and we love each other..."

"You love him?"

"I do."

"Do you tell him that? That you love him?" The pitch of his voice had raised exponentially much  
to his father's dismay.

Mickey nodded his confirmation, "Yeah, I do."

With that Yev jumped up from the step and ran into the house slamming the door behind him,  
leaving Mickey reeling in his wake.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Thirty-One: Such a Big Ego

Ian had finally found some quiet time due to Mandy and Olivia heading over to Selena's to help  
her get ready for the wedding that night. The door banging shut startled him, causing him to drop  
the novel he was immersed in and jump hastily off of the bed, "Mick?" He called practically  
running into the living room.

He frowned when his fiancé brushed past him and threw himself on the bed.

"What did she do?" Ian asked cautiously, sitting on the edge of the bed next to where Mickey was  
laying face down. He ran his fingers through Mickey's brown locks, waiting for a response.  
Fucking Svetlana.

Mickey's voice was muffled by the pillow by Ian could still hear every word, "My asshole kid is  
fucking homophobic. Takes after his fag bashing grandfather."

"Wait, what? What happened?" Ian asked anxiously. He began to rub Mickey's back soothingly,  
but his fiancé jolted away from his touch, "Mickey..."  
Mickey groaned, turning over so his back was on the bed and he could look up at Ian, "Told him  
we're getting married and he seemed confused."

"Confused, how?" Ian prodded placing his hand on Mickey's, grateful when he didn't pull it back.

"I don't even fucking know," Mickey replied pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes, "Fuck,"  
he sighed, "I told him that you and me, we aren't friends. That we're in love."

Ian couldn't help the small smile that made its way across his lips. He loved hearing Mickey talk  
about their relationship. Loved the way he loved him, "And?"

"He fucking asks me if I tell you that. That I love you and shit," He squinted his eyes and threw  
his hands up to signal his confusion, "and I said yes and the kid storms into the house, slamming  
the fucking door behind him."

Ian bit his lip thoughtfully, "Um, Mick. I don't think Yev's homophobic. I don't think it's about  
you marrying another guy."

"He just hates you?" Mickey questioned, "because fuck that," He shook his head, "I ain't living  
my life for anybody else. Did that before, not doin' it again."

"I mean, I'm pretty sure he's not crazy about me, but maybe he's upset because you've never told  
him that you love him. That you tell me you love me, but haven't told him," Ian suggested  
carefully. Discussing topics surrounding Yev, Mickey and their dynamics was always tense. He  
always tried to proceed with caution.

Mickey pulled himself up on his elbows and looked at Ian skeptically, "You think that's what it  
was about?"

Ian nodded his head, "Svetlana's in a relationship with V, right? He's fine with that. I don't think  
it's about you being gay."

Mickey pondered the new perspective, while Ian continued:

"We both grew up with dads who didn't give a shit about us. I have two. It fucking sucks. He  
probably thinks that you love me more than you love him."

"I give a shit about him," Mickey bristled, "Don't know if I love him, but there's no way I'm  
gonna love him more than I love you. Ain't gonna happen."

"That's kinda fucked up though, right?" Ian asked tentatively.

Mickey narrowed his eyes at Ian, "Really, Gallagher, fucking judging me? You know better than  
anyone," He stopped and shook his head in disbelief, throwing Ian's hand off his hip, "Asshole."

"No, no, no," Ian said quickly putting his hands on Mickey's cheeks and looking dead in his eyes,

"I don't blame you. Never. I could never..." His face grew solemn as he recalled the memories of  
Yev's conception, the day Mickey was raped, "I'm just saying... Yev doesn't know about any of  
that. As much as it's not your fault, it's not his either, right? You're all victims."

"Ain't a fucking victim," Mickey scoffed trying to turn his face away from Ian, but the redhead  
wouldn't allow it.

"Yes you are. You were. You never dealt with it. Not really..."

"I don't wanna talk about this, Ian," Mickey warned his eyes turning dark. He reached one hand  
up and rested it on Ian's, "We're not talking about it, ok?"

Ian nodded, "Ok, but just think about it because it kinda affects the way you see him. How much  
you can accept that you're his dad..."

"I know I'm his fucking dad," Mickey said shutting his eyes for a moment. He opened them again,  
and they looked softer, full of pain, "I'm trying... I just..." He shook his head as much as he could  
with Ian's hands holding his face still, "Don't really know how."

"I mean, we did have the shittiest role models ever," Ian said with a small smirk, "How the fuck  
are you supposed to know?"

Mickey shrugged, "I dunno. Figured it's something you just know. You knew, back then with  
Yev," He cleared his throat, "You loved him right away, even though you knew about how he got  
here."

"I knew he wasn't to blame. I knew he needed that. And he was always an extension of you. I  
love you, so I love him."

"You love Iggy too then?" Mickey asked with a laugh.

"You know what I'm saying," Ian said with a smile, but it was gone as fast as it came, fading off  
his face before his next statement, "I should have never left him. Things would've been easier for  
him, for you, if I would've stayed in his life."

"Fuck can we do?" Mickey asked biting his lip, "fuck can we do?"

Ian knew Mickey wasn't looking for an answer but he gave one anyway, "We keep trying" and  
then pressed his lips against Mickey's so he couldn't say anything more.

*

During the wedding ceremony, Mickey found his eyes drifting from his fiancé to his son and then  
back again. Though his body was standing beside Iggy as he recited his vows, his mind was on  
fixed on that day, the day his whole world changed, the day Yev was conceived against all of  
their wills.

His eyes found Yev's once again and his son quickly looked away, peeking back a moment later  
to see if his father was still looking at him. He was. They both shifted uncomfortably-Yev in his  
seat, Mickey in his suit. He knew he had to talk to him, he just didn't know what to say.

When he vacillated back to Ian he found his green eyes soft and focused on him. He smiled and  
mouthed, "I love you" to Mickey and fuck if Mickey's heart didn't swell. He looked away feeling  
a blush creep across his cheeks, overwhelmed with the fact that he was going to marry this man,  
grow old with him. He'd never be alone in life the way he had feared he would when he was too  
deep in the closet to see his way out. Ian was the light that guided him. He never thought that  
marriage would be for him, especially after it lost all meaning in his union with Svetlana, but now,  
he couldn't wait to be married Ian.

The ceremony ended with the happy couple sharing their first kiss as husband and wife much to  
the delight of their guests. Mickey joined the processional and nodded for Ian to follow him into  
the lobby. As soon as he saw the redhead he pulled him into an empty office and pushed him  
against the wall with a thud. Gripping Ian's tie in his fist, Mickey drew him in close and whispered  
amorously, "I fucking love you."

Then lips were on lips parting to let tongues intertwine, quenching the craving that always existed  
between them. When their lips began to feel raw and full, Ian dropped his nose to Mickey's neck,  
nuzzling against him, becoming intoxicated by the scent of his skin, "That's going to be us soon.  
My husband," his words were breathy, euphoric.

Ian's mouth began working the spots on Mickey's exposed skin that drove him crazy and as much  
as the brunet wanted to get lost in the moment, lost in Ian, something felt off, wrong.

"Hey, hey.. hold on," Mickey interrupted pushing Ian back gently, causing his fiancé to raise his  
head and meet his eyes, "I don't want to be that.." He sighed, "you're husband. I can't be that."  
Ian stared at Mickey, his jaw slack with shock, beginning to retreat, "What..." he voice stuttered,  
his mind racing, "what are you saying?"

"No, not like that," Mickey assured him wrapping his arms around Ian's slim waist and pulling  
him back in, "I don't like that. Husband- I don't like it. I was Svetlana's husband. I don't wanna be  
yours. Never wanted a wife, never wanted to be a husband."

"Just the title, you don't like the title?" Ian asked feeling himself begin to breathe again.

Mickey nodded, "I like partner," He swallowed, cradling his hand behind Ian's head and tickling  
the tips of his fingers in his hair, "When we get married, I want to be your partner. It feels right.  
Husband...," he clicked his tongue, "Husband doesn't, not to me. I tried to get past it and I can't,"  
He was nervous, Ian could see it in his worried blue eyes, in the teeth biting into his bottom lip,  
"that alright with you? Partner?"

Ian leaned down and nipped at Mickey's lip, powerless against his fiancé's habit, "Do you think it  
makes us sound like cowboys?" He smirked.

He didn't care what they called each other, he just wanted to be married to the man he'd loved  
since he was 14 and was infatuated with for long before that. Boyfriend, fiancé, lover, best friend,  
partner- the title didn't matter. Mickey was his soulmate, the love of his life and he was lucky  
enough to be marrying him.

"Whatever, man," Mickey laughed grabbing Ian's tie again. His face turned serious, voice  
dropping low seeped in sex and want, "'Member the handcuffs?"

"How could I forget," Ian asked soft and sultry.

Mickey pulled him closer, "Mmm, felt really fucking nice," He licked his lips hotly while looking  
at Ian's causing the redhead's breath to hitch, "Gonna pay you back tonight."

"Oh yeah?" Ian practically panted staring at his lover's lips right back, "Can't wait."

"You hard for me?" Mickey asked lifting his knee so it could press lightly against Ian's bulge.

"Always," He breathed, "Always hard for you."

"Gonna ride that cock so good for you," He drawled licking Ian's lips, prompting him to open up  
and take Mickey's tongue, "You want that?" He asked into his mouth, "You want me to ride that  
huge dick."

"Fuck, yeah, I want that," He moaned against Mickey's lips and before Mickey could brace  
himself, Ian had flipped him around and bent him over the desk sitting in the middle of the room.

He started rut his hard on against Mickey's ass, placing his hands over Mickey's so he could hold  
him in place as he grinded against him, "You want this?"

"Mmm," Mickey hummed the affirmative, pushing back against Ian until he thought better of it  
and sighed, "We gotta get back out there."

"Fuck, c'mon, Mick," Ian whined, "I'll be real quick. Let me slam into that ass," He laid a smack  
down on Mickey's butt and groaned.

"Can't," Mickey tisked standing up. The disappointment was evident on Ian's face so he kissed  
him hard in apology before leading him out of the room.

The celebration was being held in the church's reception hall and they were surprised to find the  
party already in full swing by the time they made their way in. They caught sight of Mandy and

Olivia dancing with Selena on the dance floor and Iggy hanging out by the coolers of beer.  
Mickey couldn't help but notice the glares of disapproval he was getting from a his Uncle Len and  
a few of his cousins who were clearly disgusted by the fact that Mickey was holding Ian's hand.

"Not worth it," Ian reminded him squeezing his hand reassuringly and pulling him towards the  
drinks.

"You're not fucking drinking tonight," Mickey warned his fiancé as he popped open a can of  
Coors, "I need something hard to bounce on later."

The visual of his Mickey moving that perfect ass up and down his cock was definitely enough  
incentive to keep him from drinking. His reverie was interrupted by Mandy's voice ordering that  
he "Get the fuck over here and dance with us." Ian shrugged at Mickey and danced his way over  
to the crowded dance floor with his best friend.

"You come too!" Olivia suggested trying to wave Mickey along with them. Mickey scoffed with  
such displeasure that the perky brunette abandoned her mission immediately and focused on  
joining Mandy and Ian instead.

He took a swig of his beer and watched as Ian moved to the music. Mandy had her arms draped  
over his shoulders and he looked so loose, so happy. His head tipped back, laughing at something  
she said, his smile bright and wide. He was beautiful.

Mickey tried to look away, tried to move from the spot on the carpet where he seemed to be stuck,  
but he couldn't peel his eyes off of the redhead. That was until Svetlana and Yev stood in front of  
him, obstructing his view.

Mickey cleared his throat, "Hey."

"Yevgeny wants to speak with you," Svetlana informed him giving him a look of warning as she  
smoothed down her son's hair. She kissed his head and walked towards the beer leaving Mickey  
and Yev standing together tensely.

"You look good, Yev. Clean up pretty nice," Mickey complimented, feeling more awkward than  
he usually did around Yevgeny, which was pretty fucking awkward.

"Thanks," Yev mumbled, "Mom is making me apologize for storming away. So, I guess I'm  
sorry." His eyes were focused on his freshly polished dress shoes instead of his father.

"You don't gotta say you're sorry for shit you're not sorry for," Mickey told him with a shrug,  
"and I don't think you got anything to be sorry about anyway."

"You don't?" Yev questioned looking up at Mickey, surprised, "Even though I ran off, slammed  
the door?"

"Nah, man. I fucked up," Mickey admitted rubbing his forehead and circling his fingers around  
his temple for a moment, "You know... my dad was a piece of shit and I don't wanna be like that,"  
He forced himself to look down at Yev, look him in the eyes, even though it was uncomfortable,  
"Just not sure how not to be."

Yev averted his eyes, shyly, unsure of how to respond.

"I'm working on it though. Gonna try...if you'll let me," Mickey was pushing past his first instinct  
which was to shut down and shut Yev out. He didn't want to do that. He wanted to be better than  
that, so he tried his damnedest to be.

"That'd be ok," Yev said quietly.

"Yeah?" Mickey asked raising his eyebrows.

Yev nodded.

"Yevvy!!" Mandy called gesturing frantically for her nephew to join her on the dance floor, "I  
need a partner!" The music had slowed down and Ian was dancing with a blushing and  
surprisingly bashful Olivia.

Yev grinned bigger than Mickey had seen him smile before, gave his father a slight wave and  
headed over to Mandy, who wrapped him immediately in her arms and began swaying to the  
music.

Mickey drained his beer can and went for another, knowing what he had said to Yev wasn't  
enough, but hoping it was a good start.

*

By the time they got back to the shitty apartment Mandy and Olivia were laughing and practically  
falling over, drunk off their asses. Mickey and Ian helped them onto the pullout where the both  
began to starfish, giggling as they knocked their arms and legs into each other, lacking the luxury  
or space.

As Ian helped Mandy get her huge hoop earrings off telling her that they'd either fuck up her face  
or Olivia's during the night, Mickey went into the bathroom, grabbed the ear plugs he had bought  
earlier that day and tossed them onto the pullout.

"Really?" Olivia asked with a laugh, "Ear plugs," She said handing a pair to Mandy.

Mandy raised her eyebrows at her brother and then smirked at Ian who shrugged in response,  
climbing off of the pullout and heading straight into their bedroom more than ready to have  
Mickey on his dick.

Mickey followed and pushed Ian's suit jacket off of his shoulders quickly before shrugging off his  
own.

"Ear plugs?" Ian questioned unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants.

"Mmmhmm," Mickey confirmed untying his fiancé's tie and throwing it on the bed, "You're  
gonna be screaming."

"Oh yeah?" Ian asked licking his lips, earning him a look of warning from Mickey, who fought  
the urge to kiss his fiancé, knowing he wanted him down on the bed as soon as possible and  
kissing would just distract him, "What're you gonna do?"

"You'll see," Mickey assured him, tossing his own tie on the bed and stripping off the rest of his  
clothes. "Lay back," He ordered once they were both naked, "head on your pillow."

Ian did as he was told and grinned as Mickey lifted one of his hands and kissed his wrist softly  
before tying his silver tie around it tightly. He dropped that hand and picked up his other, laying a  
kiss on his wrist before securing Ian's black tie around it. One at a time Mickey lifted Ian's arms up  
and knotted the ties around the wood slats of their headboard so that Ian arms formed a Y behind  
him.

"Try to move 'em," Mickey directed, smirking as Ian demonstrated that he couldn't loosen the ties  
or get much movement at all.

"I'm fucked aren't I?" Ian asked with a glint in his eye that showed how excited he was for how  
destroyed he was about to get.

"You ain't even ready for what's about to happen to you," Mickey told him with a laugh. And just  
like that his lips were on Ian's left wrist kissing just below the silk tie. Mickey worked his way  
down his arm, licking and kissing until he reached his shoulder and switched over to the other  
wrist, following the same pattern. By the time he made it to his fiancé's collarbones, Ian's  
breathing was heavy with anticipation. "What d'ya want?" Mickey asked against his lover's skin  
as he licked at his sternum and moved down to his ribs.

"Want your mouth around my cock," Ian answered raising his hips so that his erection could brush  
against Mickey's belly leaving a sticky smear of precum on his skin.

"You do?" Mickey feigned surprise laughing lightly and kissing Ian's belly button, "Bet you do."

He was teasing now, moving down to Ian's hip bone biting him softly and then a little harder,  
drawing a yelp out of Ian's panting mouth, "Need you."

"Need me to do what, baby?" He asked innocently nuzzling his face in Ian's pubic hair for a  
moment before moving to the other hip bone. He knew that terms of endearment drove Ian wild  
and he wanted him really fucking savage.

"Suck it," Ian gasped, shivering as Mickey kissed the inside of his thighs and laid a flat tongued  
lick on his balls.

As he gently sucked each orb into his mouth he heard the ties sliding on the slats, indicating that  
Ian was losing his mind with the need to touch him. He loved it and rewarded his fiancé by  
wrapping his hand around the base of his thick cock, beginning to stroke him as he brought his  
mouth up to his leaking slit. Mickey pressed his tongue against Ian, delivering just the right about  
or pressure to make him groan loudly, "Like that?" He asked as he began to swirl his tongue  
around the head, stopping every so often to lick down the shaft only to lap at the slit and swirl at  
the head once again.

"Fuuuck," Ian's voice was wavering and overwhelmed, making Mickey desperate to push him  
dangerously close to the edge. He went to work deep throating, hallowing his cheeks, lightly  
dragging teeth, lapping his tongue heavy, and completely wrecking Ian in the process.  
Ian could feel his whole body begin to thrum with energy. He was shivering and shaking, needing  
to grab onto Mickey to feel grounded, but unable to. He let himself get high on the intensity, the  
heady, delicious torture of it all.

Just when he thought he knew what his fiancé would do next, Mickey would change it up;  
ghosting over his balls, nipping at his thigh, tracing the base of his cock with his tongue while  
Ian's tip was brushing against the back of his throat. Ian almost lost his mind when he realized,  
through hooded eyes, that Mickey had been prepping himself the whole time.

"Mick" Ian wailed arching his neck back and staring up at the ceiling. "Mick, you gotta stop," he  
tried kicking up at Mickey's ass but his fiancé ignored his pleas, "I'm gonna cum, oh fuck, I'm  
gonna cum," he sounded like he was going to start fucking crying so desperate to shoot his load  
but dying to feel Mickey's ass around him before he did.

Mickey felt the tell-tale tightening under his tongue cueing him to tug on the redhead's balls, pop  
his lips off his cock, coat his finger with lube and push into Ian's hole with haste.  
Ian's hips bucked off the bed as he keened partially from the burning but more from the surprise.

Mickey fingered him roughly making Ian's knees shake with every revolution. "You gonna fuck  
me?" Ian gasped.

"Nah, I said this was payback. Gonna finger you til you cum for me," Mickey smirked drizzling  
lube over Ian's asshole, adding another finger so he could start scissoring.

Ian groaned and cried out, "No, no. Please, please Mick. Need your ass." He was trying to break  
his wrists free from the restraints, completely gone.

"Feels good, hmmm?" Mickey hummed, hooking his finger slightly to get at Ian's prostate.

"Mmm, yes," Ian relented, "But I need to ride me, please baby, please ride me, fucking need it,  
please, need that ass," he kept chanting the same phrases, begging.

"You look like you're gonna cry, Gallagher," Mickey said raising his eyebrows as he continued to  
work Ian's hole, stretching him. "You gonna cry for my ass? You need it that fucking bad?" His  
voice was lecherous and hot as fuck. Ian's face was red and sweat was dripping off his brow. He  
closed his eyes unable to brush the beads away.

"Ye, ye, yes," Ian stuttered biting hard into his lip as Mickey hit his sweet spot. He continued  
repeating the phrases once again, "please baby, please ride me, fucking need it, please..."

"Jesus FUCKING Christ, fucking ride him already," Mandy's exasperated voice cut through the  
room, "These fucking ear plugs aren't worth shit!!!"

Mickey laughed lightly chiding Ian without scorn that he was "bein' too fucking loud," but his  
fiancé was not in a joking mood. He just kept begging, his cock swollen and red, needing Mickey  
on him.

"Whiny, whiny, Gallagher. You need it, huh?" Mickey teased while covering his palm with lube,  
beginning to stroke Ian's cock"

"Yes, oh fuck yes, feels really fucking good," He sighed as Mickey continued to jerk him off.  
With his free hand Mickey reached under his pillow to grab the butt plug he had stashed there  
earlier. He placed it on the bed next to him and squirted it with lube, not worried that half of it  
ended up on the comforter. As he worked Ian, he pushed the plug into his hole slowly.

Ian arched off the bed with a whimper as Mickey continued to breach him, "'Bout to give you the  
best fucking orgasm you've ever had in your life, Ian," He informed his fiancé once the plug was  
placed fully inside. "You ready?"

Ian nodded his head emphatically, too turned on to even formulate words.

"Gonna ride that cock now, not because you want me to, but because I really fucking need it,"  
Mickey informed him as he held Ian's dick steady with one hand and spread his own ass cheek  
with the other. He lowered onto Ian slowly, moaning and throwing his head back when he took  
him in fully. "Mmm feels good." He noticed that Ian had a small amount of blood dripping off of  
his lip from biting into it so damn hard. Mickey reached down to swipe it off, wiping it on the his  
leg unceremoniously, "Stop biting, you're bleeding."

"Don't give a shit," He rasped barely finding his voice, "fucking move."

"You think you're in charge here?" Mickey laughed and shook his head. He dropped his voice  
down low as he rolled his hips at a painstakingly slow pace, "Need you to touch me, baby. Please  
fucking touch me." He narrowed his eyes at Ian and then made a point to look down at his cock  
that bobbed in the air with each of his movements, "Please."

Ian tried to shake his hands free and let out a feral growl of disappointment when he realized he  
couldn't loosen them to fulfill his lover's request.

"Ian," He continued the mocking undercurrent evident in his voice, "Touch my cock. It's dripping  
for you. Please touch it." He was still taking Ian in and out of his ass at a languid pace.  
Ian groaned his frustration as his eyes focused on the long rivulet of precum that was leaking out  
of Mickey's slit. Mickey swiped some with his finger and leaned forward to push it into Ian's  
mouth.

Ian sucked greedily, relishing in the taste and needing the contact.

"Want more?" Mickey asked and Ian immediately hummed his confirmation. Mickey pulled his  
finger out of Ian's mouth and swiped at the head of his cock again before pushing it back into Ian's  
mouth, "My fucking cumslut, always begged for it."

Ian whined continuing to suck on his fiancé's finger as Mickey speed up his motions, placing his  
other hand on Ian's chest for leverage. He was slamming down onto him now, drawing him in and  
out of his hole with fervor.

"Need more," Mickey moaned pulling his finger out of Ian's mouth and straightening out so he  
could bounce up and down, filling him to the hilt with every downstroke.

"Oohh fuck... ohhhh fuck," Ian's voice warbled and wavered with the motion. Mickey was riding  
him at an ungodly pace now, his body glistening with sweat from the exertion. The way his chest  
muscles tightened with every thrust and the sounds he was making were pulling Ian towards the  
edge. When Mickey bit his lip and closed his eyes with pleasure, Ian was pretty sure he was going  
to lose it. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to hold on. He knew he couldn't take much more, "So  
good, Mick. So good to me, baby. Gonna cum."

Mickey's eyes shot open and he reached around to tug on Ian's balls, "Like fuck you are. I'm  
close. Hold the fuck out."

Though he was sweating profusely, he knew that the moisture streaming down his face was tears.  
He never needed a release so bad. Between the plug in his ass that hitting his prostate when  
Mickey rocked him the right way and Mickey riding him like a pro, Ian was obliterated.

"Shit, you ok, man?" Mickey asked stopping for a moment to reach his hand up to Ian's face,  
"You're crying."

"Shut the fuck up and fucking cum you piece of shit," Ian snarled, straining his wrists.

Mickey chucked and threw his hands up in surrender, "alright, alright." The smile fell from his  
face as he concentrated on getting off. He bit his lip and started jerking his cock with the same  
rhythm that had established while riding the redhead. "Where do you want it," Mickey breathed  
hotly, "'m close."

"Fucking cum," was the only response he received. Ian's eyes were still tightly shut, unable to take  
the stimulation of watching his hot ass fiancé on top of him. Mickey figured it was as good a time  
as any, "Keep your eyes shut," he directed, "Gonna shoot it on that pretty face. Open your  
mouth."

Ian did as he was told, tongue held out, waiting for Mickey's cum to rain down on him. Mickey's  
grunts and groans grew louder as he found his release, white ribbons of jizz painting his fiancé's  
face.

In one naughty motion Ian licked his lips taking in as much of Mickey's cum as he could reach.  
It took one more up and down movement and a slight jiggle of the butt plug to have Ian screaming  
like his skin had caught on fire. He felt his whole body convulse around him as he emptied into  
Mickey's ass, shooting his warmth so deep into his lover that it had the brunet moaning again.  
Just when Ian thought he was spent he felt a familiar tightening of his balls and ache in his belly as  
he groaned through another orgasm, spilling even more into Mickey's full hole.

Mickey collapsed boneless on top of him, both of the men struggling to catch their breath. When  
he could muster enough energy, Mickey reached up to untie Ian's wrists He frowned when he  
noticed the redness and irritation left behind, "Fucking moved too much," Mickey chided kissing  
the skin gently.

Ian couldn't respond, he was too turned out to even move his mouth. His eyes were still shut due  
to the trajectory of Mickey's cumshot and he was wondering idly if he was still alive. He came  
back to his body when he felt Mickey pull the plug out and he gasped immediately at the  
emptiness.

"Let's get you cleaned up, alright?" Mickey lifted a glass of water off the nightstand and poured a  
bit onto a t-shirt that had been discarded on the floor that morning. He wiped around Ian's eyes  
first and then took care of the rest of his face.

His green eyes fluttered open and he gazed at Mickey with a bewildered look on his face, "I saw  
the light, man," He joked weakly.

"Fucking dumbass," Mickey laughed patting Ian's cheek, "C'mon, let's shower."

"I'm good," Ian said yawning, "Can't move."

"Fuck, you're a nasty little slut," Mickey said shaking his head in disbelief. He reached for a towel  
on his dresser and headed out to the bathroom.

"Just tell me he's alive, Mickey," Mandy groaned her voice drenched in exhaustion.

"Barely," Mickey replied locking the door behind him.

"Don't listen to him," Ian called, his voice still shaky, "Call the morgue."

He heard snickering from the other room but he was too tired to laugh along with them.

Chapter Thirty-Two: PB&J

Ian woke up in a tangle of arms and legs. He laid a kiss on Mickey's temple causing his fiancé's  
lips to curl up into small smile. His eyes were still closed and Ian was sure it was the sweetest  
thing he'd ever seen. Unable to help himself, he brushed his lips against Mickey's and then kissed  
him once more for good measure.

He pried himself out of Mickey's tight hold and rolled out of bed, stretching his arms over his head  
with a soft groan. The shitty apartment was so still, so tranquil. Mandy and Olivia had left the day  
before and though he'd miss having them around, he was glad to be alone with Mickey, in their  
space, their bubble.

He didn't bother to throw on a t-shirt or boxers, deciding instead to stay naked, taking full  
advantage of the solitude. It was a humid May morning and his body was already damp and  
glistening from being wrapped up in Mickey all night.

Growing up in the Gallagher house, it was rare to find moments of silence. With Mickey, he  
found them often and he couldn't be more grateful. Whether it was laying in bed reading while  
Mickey cuddled up to him, or zoning out in each other's arms, the quiet moments were Ian's  
favorite.

Sometimes his mind was loud enough to shake him from the peace, but when that happened he  
found comfort in the words of assurance spoken by his fiancé. He knew there would be times that  
Mickey wouldn't be able to provide that solace, as hard as he would try. For the first time since his  
diagnosis he felt open to being taken care of, looked out for. If he let himself lean on Mickey,  
didn't run away, they could get through anything.

He padded into the kitchen to switch on the coffee maker and threw bread into the toaster. He  
grabbed the jelly from the refrigerator and peanut butter from the cabinet and waited.

"Hey," Mickey greeted rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Ian grinned at the sight of him. He had mean case of bedhead that almost distracted from the fact  
that he was just as naked as Ian.

"You look so fucking cute right now," Ian told him, knowing 'cute' wasn't a word that Mickey  
liked to be used when describing him, but he couldn't help himself.

"Fuck off," Mickey mumbled, squinting his eyes at the brightness of the sunlight streaming in  
from the living room window and giving Ian the finger, "Can't call an ass- naked dude... cute."

"No?" Ian asked as his fiancé approached him. Mickey hooked his arms under Ian's armpits and  
wrapped his hands around so they were resting on the redhead's shoulders. Settling his arms  
around Mickey's lower back, Ian whispered a quiet, "Hey," before burying his face into Mickey's  
shoulder and taking a deep inhale.

"Love you," Mickey said softly, resting his lips against Ian's collarbone.

They stood there enjoying the moment until their toast popped up and demanded attention. Ian  
turned around so he could put peanut butter on his slices and jelly on Mickey's. While he worked  
on breakfast, Mickey snuggled against his back, resting his cheek on Ian's strong muscles.

"Want your coffee iced or hot?" Ian asked reaching for the pot, not moving anymore than he had  
to for fear of disturbing Mickey's rest.

"Ain't no point in iced coffee," Mickey reminded him, "told you that."

"I like it," Ian laughed, "Get me some ice..."

Mickey kissed the spread of skin between Ian's shoulder blades before peeling himself off and  
getting some ice to drop in Ian's glass.

They sat down at the table and enjoyed their naked breakfast, stealing glances and kisses as they  
ate.

"You goin' for a run?" Mickey asked once they'd finished.

Ian nodded, "Yeah. Will I see you at my interview?" He was set to meet with Luca later that  
afternoon for the busser position.

"Nah, I'll be done by then. You want me to stick around the North Side so we can grab something  
to eat?"

"We can go to that place on Lakeshore that has that cheap Happy Hour where all the appetizers  
are like $3. You liked it there, right?"

Mickey shrugged, "I dunno. They hardly give you any food. We could probably fill up at  
Portillo's for cheaper."

"But we're gonna be celebrating," Ian said with a smirk, "My new job."

"Don't got it yet," Mickey reminded him, raising his eyebrows.

"What? You didn't put in a good word for me?" Ian accused playfully.

"Told him the truth," Mickey grinned, "That you're a prick."

Ian laughed and stood up, wrapping the brunet in a loose headlock so he could lay sloppy kisses  
all over his forehead.

"You get the job and we'll go to that place," Mickey relented, "Sound good?"

"What'd I do to deserve you?" Ian grinned giving him one last kiss, this time on the his lips before  
standing up straight.

"Who said you do?" Mickey teased, slapping Ian's bare ass hard.

"Asshole," Ian yelped rubbing his behind soothingly.

"You love my asshole," Mickey taunted, drawing a laugh and nod from Ian.

"Fair point," He conceded before disappearing into the bedroom to put on his clothes.

*

Ian was on his way to his interview with Luca when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He  
assumed it was Mickey calling to wish him luck, but was shocked to see Theo's number on the  
screen instead. For a second he considered ignoring the call, but his ex-fiancé hadn't done  
anything to warrant that kind of treatment. He wasn't entirely sure how Theo got his new number,  
but Ian knew that he had his ways. If there's one thing he learned from his time with Theo, it was  
that the government had more access to information than the average citizen thought they did.

"Hello," Ian greeted, voice tentative. He hadn't considered that he may come into contact with  
Theo again. Even years after he and Mickey had broken up, Ian knew that they would reconnect,  
talk again at the very least. It had felt inevitable. They had a connection that couldn't be ignored. It  
was different with Theo, though, when it ended it felt finished, like there was nothing more to say.

"Ian?" Theo questioned, as if he needed to confirm that his people had found him the correct  
number.

"Yeah, it's me. How's it going?" He cringed at how causal his words came out, like they talked  
daily and he was asking about Theo's morning commute.

"Eh, I mean, it's going alright. This weekend was a little tough to get through if I'm being honest,"  
Theo admitted, his tone a bit dark.

Ian stopped dead in his tracks, completely flabbergasted that he had forgotten that Iggy and  
Selena's wedding date was supposed to be his own as well. He could have been married to Theo  
by now, on a plane to lord knows where for a honeymoon, having promised to love the wrong  
man. The thought of living his life without Mickey made him shudder. It was too painful to even  
consider.

Being completely unsure of how to respond to Theo's statement, Ian remained silent.  
Theo cleared his throat uncomfortably before continuing on, "How are you doing?"

"I'm good," Ian replied, "You know, stable, so that's good."

"I'm happy to hear that, Ian. I really am. Listen, do you have lunch plans tomorrow?"

"Um, I'm interviewing for a job, so I'm not sure if they'll want me to start..." Ian responded  
awkwardly. He didn't 'do lunch' anymore. The concept seemed to foreign to him, like that hadn't  
been his life just 8 months ago.

"Good luck with your interview," Theo said earnestly, "If you're available tomorrow for any  
reason, would you be willing to meet me at Prime and Provisions for a quick meal? I have  
something I need to speak with you about."

"Is everything alright?" Ian asked nervously. He didn't want to go, but he felt like he should.  
Maybe it was the least he could do for all the kindness Theo had shown him. and all the hurt Ian  
had caused.

"Yes, yes fine," Theo assured him, "it's not anything that will upset you, Ian." His ex-fiancé still  
felt the need to protect Ian, he could hear it in this voice.

"Ok, um, can I text you later and let you know?"

"Sure. No problem. Good luck at your interview. I know you'll do well," Theo said kindly.

"Thanks. I'll get back to you later." It was strange not knowing how to end the call. All their  
phone calls over the past several years had ended the same way: With an 'I love you' or 'love you,  
too.'

He wondered idly if he'd loved Theo. He probably did, but not the way he loved Mickey. He was  
madly in love with Mickey, always had been. With Theo, it had been different, more surface, less  
intense, less consuming. He adored being consumingly in love with Mickey.

He decided to go with a clumsy, "See ya" and hang up the phone. He took a few deep breaths and  
made his way to his interview.

*

"Can't believe we're gonna be workin' together again," Mickey mused aimlessly twirling Ian's hair  
around his finger as they laid in bed later that night.

"Can't believe you ate all the sliders," Ian teased tickling at the little bit of softness around  
Mickey's belly button.

"What's the fucking point of mini hamburgers? Like, just get a whole burger. I don't fuckin' get  
it," He groused smacking Ian's hand away, "Don't touch the gut."

"Shut it, you don't have a gut," Ian chided scooting down and pulling the covers over his head so  
he could kiss Mickey's stomach.

"Get the fuck outta here, Gallagher," Mickey laughed as Ian blew raspberries on his skin. He  
kneed Ian playfully in the groin, causing the redhead to hyperbolically throw himself back on the  
bed and moan.

"You broke my cock!"

"Oh shut the fuck up," Mickey groaned putting the pillow over his own head so he could drown  
out the whining.

He could still hear the muffled sound of Ian's voice saying 'thought you loved it.'

Ian pulled the pillow off of Mickey's head and informed him, "I'm done."

"Good," Mickey said turning on his side and getting comfortable again, bringing his hand back up  
to play with Ian's hair.

"Gotta talk to you about something," Ian began, wrapping his leg around Mickey's and resting his  
hand on his hip bone. He was also on his side, his face just inches from Mickey's, now settled on  
the same pillow, "Theo called me today."

"Oh," Mickey clicked his tongue and raised his eyebrows quizzically, "What'd he have to say?"

"Wants to have lunch tomorrow. He's got something to talk to me about, I guess," Ian said  
tightening his hold on Mickey's hip, not wanting him to turn over or move away.

"What did you say?" Mickey asked gnawing at the inside of his cheek, uncomfortable.

"Said I may have to work, but I don't start 'til Friday. Wanted to talk to you. What d'you think I  
should do?"

"Don't give a shit. It's up to you," Mickey replied, clearly shutting down.

"Don't, don't do that," Ian tsked, "C'mon, talk to me..."

"So, you're asking me if I'm alright with you going on a date with your fucking sugar daddy while  
you're engaged to me?" Mickey asked narrowing his eyes, "The fuck do you expect me to say,  
Gallagher?"

"Stop," Ian said softly, "Please," he placed a sweet kiss on Mickey's lips, not getting much in  
return, "Please stop. I love you. I don't even wanna go, just thought I should."

"Why?" Mickey asked sniffing, trying to hold back his anger, not even sure why he was so  
pissed, "Why'd you think you should?"

"I dunno," Ian shrugged a little, "Guess because I dumped him in a shrink's office, told him I still  
loved you, always loved you."

"No shit?" Mickey breathed, surprised, "that's fucking brutal."

"Mmmhmm," Ian hummed his agreement, "then he paid for me to complete the treatment. Felt like  
I owed him a sit down, I guess," he paused, "honestly, with this whole book deal thing, I was  
kinda hoping he'd be a dick and it'd give me an excuse to go for it, get the money that we need."

"Think he'd be a dick?"

"Nah, there's no way," Ian said rolling his eyes.

"I'm a bigger dick?" Mickey questioned with a smirk.

"No competition," Ian assured him.

"How 'bout my dick? That bigger too?" Mickey asked reaching down to grab a handful of Ian's  
ass.

"Don't even remember his, your dicks got me so fucked up, I can't even imagine anyone else's,"  
Ian teased with a grin, happy that Mickey was lightening up.

"Shit, you're a bad fucking liar, Firecrotch," Mickey laughed.

"I'll tell you if you wanna know," Ian stated.

"Kinda do," Mickey admitted, "Maybe if the fuckers working with like a thumb or some shit I  
won't care as much."

"Not a thumb, but not nearly as perfect as yours," Ian informed him, "it was kinda crooked and  
had this bump on the top of the shaft that would hit the roof of my mouth when I'd go down on  
him," Ian shuddered a little, "for the longest time I thought it was, like, a tumor or something.  
Made him go check it out any everything."

"No shit?" Mickey gasped, ashamed to admit that he fucking loved hearing about it, "Was it?"

"No, just a weird bump I guess," He pulled Mickey closer, "Yours is the best I've ever had."

"Makes sense," Mickey said with a nod and a glint in his blue eyes.

"Fucking straight as an arrow, thick and heavy, tastes as good as it feels," Ian praised.

"Alright, alright, man," Mickey had slight blush covering his cheeks. He'd never had anyone  
swoon over his cock when it wasn't in their ass or mouth, "Go on your date," he broke away from  
Ian to turn off the lamp on his nightstand and cuddled back up to him immediately.

"I don't think we should refer to it as a date," Ian corrected, "it's a business meeting."

"Oh yeah? What's your business then?" Mickey asked. Ian could hear his smirk through the  
darkness.

"Guess it could be publishing, right?" Ian replied, no joy in his voice, only concern.

"You mean being a fucking Judas piece-of-shit?" Mickey clarified.

"Yeah, that too," Ian relented.

"That, too," Mickey agreed snuggling in tight and drifting off to sleep as Ian laid awake.

Chapter Thirty-Three: Lonely in Your Company

As soon as Ian stepped through the door of the restaurant he felt incredibly uncomfortable. He’d  
met Theo for lunch at Prime and Provisions countless times before, but that was when he was  
living a different life. He adjusted his grey collared shirt a bit, trying to muster up even an iota of  
his typical confidence. His eyes washed over a group of business people, dressed impeccably,  
standing by the hostess stand.

He’d sold many of his nicer clothing items when they had first moved into the shitty apartment.  
He had no need for designer duds anymore, but at this moment, he wished he had kept at least a  
pair of nicer shoes. He caught a man giving him a skeptical, sidelong glance, which prompted him  
to run his hands through his slightly grown out hair, attempting to smooth it out a bit and then  
dropped them to his face to trace over his shadow of a beard. He wished he would've shaven, but  
it wouldn’t have been worth the shit that Mickey would’ve given him.  
The smart group moved aside and Ian made his way to the stand, smiling at the familiar hostess,

“Hey Kenzie,” He greeted.

“Ian?! Wow, it’s been so long!” She exclaimed brightly, “Are you meeting Lt. Governor  
Goodwyn? I just sat him a few minutes ago.”

“Uh, yeah,” Ian replied thinking that this was a huge mistake. He didn’t want to see Theo. He  
didn’t want to be in this restaurant garnering disapproving looks from people that used to kiss his  
ass and be desperate to know him.

“Let me lead you back there,” Kenzie said quickly turning on her heels and waving for Ian to  
follow her. He felt eyes burning into him as he walked towards the table. Memories of months of  
headlines flooded his consciousness; it felt like years ago, even lifetimes ago. He wished that Theo  
had chosen a less public place. Ian had almost forgotten about his notoriety, something that he  
longed to leave behind him.

When he approached the table, Theo stood up to give him a hug and Ian halfheartedly hugged him  
back. Kenzie dropped the menu quickly and scurried off.

“You look good,” Theo said assessing Ian as he stepped back from the hug, “Relaxed.”

Ian wasn’t sure if that was code for ‘you let yourself go.’ Theo always preferred him clean shaven.  
He liked beautiful things and to him, Ian was the most beautiful thing of all. It wasn’t lost on Ian  
that Mickey didn’t seem to have preferences about the way he wore his hair or shaved his face. He  
knew that Mickey was attracted to him physically, he told him and showed him that all the time,  
but when Mickey looked at him it was like he looked beyond his appearance. There was a  
softness, that made Ian feel that Mickey looked at who he really was, not who the rest of the world  
saw.

Ian just gave him a half-grin and took his seat, “How are you?”

“Busy,” Theo replied looking down at the menu, “Get your usual, Ian. It’s on me.”

Ian scanned the menu for his typical order, his eyes almost falling out of his head when he saw the  
prices: Alaskan King Crab Dejonghe, White Wine Garlic, Parmesan Panko Bread Crumbs $24,  
French Onion Soup, Parmeggiano Crouton $11, Dry-Aged Bone-In Ribeye $68, Properly  
Whipped Potatoes, Horseradish Parmesan Crust $14, and an Old Fashioned $14. His “usual” meal  
was going to cost Theo $131. He was sure the cost of the items had always been noted, but he had  
never paid attention. In all honesty, he’d stopped having any concern over the prices of everything  
when he was with Theo.

Ian nodded and put down the menu, “So, what’s going on?”

“Don’t you think we should order first?” Theo asked with a smirk, “You’re not going to get out of  
here any sooner if I spill the beans right off the bat. We can pace ourselves. How’d your job  
interview go?”

“It went well. Thanks for asking. I start Friday,” He replied pursing his lips. He really shouldn’t  
have come. He didn’t want to make small talk. He just wanted to leave.

“What are you going to be doing?”

“Um, bussing tables for this catering company called FIG Catering,” Ian said clearing his throat.  
He could hardly discern the look on Theo’s face. It was something between pity and sadness.

“We’ve been to a lot of events they’ve catered,” Theo informed him, “They’re very good at what  
they do.”

Ian shrugged, “It’s a paycheck, so I’m glad about that.”

“I’m just…” Theo sighed and shook his head in disbelief, “You would have never had to live  
from paycheck to paycheck with me. Was it that bad, Ian, being with me? So bad that you’d rather  
struggle through life?”

Ian bristled, “It’s not like that. It was bad to be with you, Thee, I was just..”

“In love with another man,” Theo cut in, finishing Ian’s sentence.

The waiter approached the table, thus bringing an end to one of the most awkward conversations  
Ian had ever partaken in.

After they ordered, they sat in silence for a few moments, a silence that was not nearly as  
comfortable as the quiet times in their past had been.

“So,” Theo began, “I may as well get down to it. Sean heard through the grapevine that a few  
major publishing companies have been in talks with a literary agent about a book deal for you. I  
guess some kind of a tell-all regarding the scandals that surrounded the demise of our relationship.  
Are you going to do it?”

“Um, wow,” Ian breathed. He wasn’t expecting Theo to be aware of Dustin’s hustle and was  
taken aback by Theo’s acknowledgment.

“I know I don’t have any hold on you,” Theo started, pausing briefly to thank the waiter for  
bringing their crab appetizer and crocks of soup, “But I have a lot exciting things coming around  
the bend for me in my career, really amazing opportunities that will be in serious peril if our issues  
come back into the public eye. We’re still contending with the ramifications of the press we  
received at the start of all of this mayhem.”

“I’m sorry,” Ian said sincerely, “…I’m sorry I put you through that.” He used his spoon to break  
through the thick cheese bubbling on top of the thick brown broth and felt his mouth water. Shit,  
he had missed this. He decided that tasting this delicious, luxurious food was almost worth the  
discomfort he was experiencing sitting at a table with his ex, discussing these things.

“I appreciate that. I’m hoping that you keep that in mind when considering your options in the  
future, including the situation with this book deal. Are you thinking of doing it? I know that  
they’ve probably offered you quite an impressive sum of money.. and you need money so…”  
Ian could feel his body temperature rising. Between Theo’s question and the heat of the soup, he  
was beginning to sweat. He undid the top button of his shirt and fanned it trying to get some air to  
his moist skin, “Is it hot in here?”

Theo shook his head, “I didn’t mean to upset you.” His eyes caught a dark mark on Ian’s  
collarbone and he tilted his head so he could get a better angle to perceive what it was.

Instinctively, he reached his hand up to pull at the cloth so he could see the name emblazoned  
there, “Fucking Christ,” He murmured, a look of shock and disgust on his face. He dropped his  
arm and jumped up quickly from his seat, “I’ll be right back.”

Ian watched as his ex-fiancé rushed toward the bathroom. This wasn’t going well. He dropped his  
head down and raked his fingers through his hair wishing he hadn’t fucking come.  
When Theo returned to the table his eyes were rimmed with red an obvious sign that he had been  
leaking his emotions in the restroom.

“I’m sorry,” Ian said softly. “I know this must…”

Theo interrupted him bruskly, “So you’re with him, then? Your old friend…” It was more a  
statement than a question, but Ian felt compelled to answer anyway.

“Yeah, I am,” He admitted.

The waiter placed their meals in front of them and Ian dug in right away while Theo just stared  
forward like he’d seen a ghost.

“So, I was a placeholder? You were wasting time with me until he got out of prison? Letting me  
love you, take care of you?” Theo sputtered, shaking his head in astonishment.  
For a moment, Ian really hoped that Theo didn’t storm out of there and leave him with the bill.  
There was no way he could afford this meal and Mickey would kick his ass.

“It’s not like that,” Ian assured him, but he knew that Theo had a point. He found himself easily  
falling back into familiar patterns with Theo, lying in order to appease him. He didn’t want to do  
that. He knew it wasn’t fair to either of them, “Theo,” He summoned his courage and resolve as  
he looked into Theo’s waiting, steely eyes, “I should’ve waited for Mickey, been there for him. It  
doesn’t mean I never cared for you, I did, but Mickey’s my soulmate. I should’ve waited for him  
and I shouldn’t have fucked up your life. I’m sorry.”

He sighed and looked down at the remainder of the steak waiting on his plate. He ordered it  
medium rare with the intention to bring half of it home to Mickey. If he really wanted to please the  
vampire, he would have gotten it rare, but Ian couldn’t take the blood. He took another bite as  
Theo processed his admission.

“And he’s as serious about you as you are for him?” Theo asked quietly.  
Ian nodded, “We’re getting married.”

“You’re unbelievable, Ian,” Theo hissed, “I should have listened to every single person in my life.  
They knew. They knew who you were. They could tell. They warned me.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Ian said earnestly, deciding that he needed to get the fuck out there as soon  
as possible. He signaled for the waiter and asked him to box up the rest of his steak and mashed  
potatoes.

“This is it then? You’re going to run away? I show an iota of anger and you’re running?” Theo  
cried, “I thought you wanted me to get pissed. Well, I’m pissed and now you can’t hear it?” A few  
of the diners at tables close by their looked over at the raised voice.

“I just don’t think this is healthy for either of us,” Ian reasoned, digging into the pocket of his jeans  
to pull out the ring that Theo had given him.

“I don’t…” Theo began, “Don’t give that back to me. I don’t want it. Pawn it. Don’t take less than  
$2,000. It’s Tiffany and retailed for $2800. I can’t look at it, can’t take it.”  
Ian nodded, “Are you sure because…”

“I’m sure,” Theo assured him, “Before you go, regarding the book deal, whatever they offered  
you to do it, I’ll match if you don’t.”

“I’m not taking your money,” Ian snapped, “and I’m not doing the fucking book deal. You should  
know me better than that, know that I’d never do that.”

“I don’t know you at all,” Theo responded sadly, watching as Ian stood up.  
Ian sighed and took his bag of leftovers off of the table, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say  
it. I won’t be a problem for you, so you don’t have to, you know, worry about that.”  
Theo nodded.

“Thanks for lunch.”

“Thanks for meeting,” Theo responded curtly.

With that, Ian exited the restaurant and walked a few blocks to complete an errand. He pulled his  
phone out of his pocket to shoot a text to Mickey.

-You home yet?-

His lunch had gone way longer than he expected, even though he had cut it short and the task that  
followed took another half hour. There was a good chance Mickey was home from work already.  
He really hoped he was.

-Yup. Date fun?-

-FU Asshole-

He hurried to the El and starting running home as soon as he disembarked.  
When he opened the door and saw Mickey sitting on the couch playing Doom his first instinct  
was to climb into his fiancé’s lap and bury his face into his chest- so he did. He just wanted to be  
held. He had kept a stiff upper lip during the lunch but it was brutal and he just wanted Mickey.

“You’re fucking up my game,” Mickey complained without much malice in his voice. He hit  
pause and tossed the controller onto the couch next to them, “You smell like garlic.”  
Ian held up the doggie bag without removing himself from Mickey.

“Sweet. I’m fucking starving. Get off of me. I gotta eat,” He bucked up his hips a bit, trying to get  
the redhead to climb off, but Ian wasn’t going anywhere, “That bad, huh?”

"I thought he was gonna leave at one point and I was going to have to wash dishes for the rest of  
my life to pay the bill," Ian admitted, his voice muffled by Mickey's clothing.

"Yeah and other than that?"

“Just generally awful."

“Because you miss him or…” Mickey asked tentatively.

Ian’s head shot up and he gave Mickey a confused look, “No, I don’t feel anything for him. It was  
just really awkward. REALLY fucking uncomfortable.”

“What’d he want to talk about?”

“Found out about the book deal,” Ian said nuzzling back in to his safe spot.

“And…”

“Wanted to pay me off not to do it.”

“Rich prick,” Mickey scoffed shaking his head in distaste, “What did you tell him? Fuck off?”

“Pretty much,” Ian confirmed, “Told him that I’m not doing the deal and that I don’t want his  
fucking money.”

Mickey hummed his approval and kissed the top of Ian’s head, “I love you, you know that?”

“You love me because I’m insuring we stay poor and struggling?” Ian asked with a light laugh.

“Mmmhmm,” Mickey confirmed, “It’s our way.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Ian said lifting his head up again, “Well, not for the next couple of months  
at least."

Mickey raised his eyebrows inquisitively and waited for Ian to continue.

The redhead shimmied a bit so that he could reach into his pocket and pull out a wad of $100 bills.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Mickey asked slowly.

“Was gonna give him back the ring he gave me, but he didn’t wanna take it, so I pawned it,” Ian  
explained, “$1800, it will pay for a few months rent.”

“I ain’t touching that fucking blood money,” Mickey scoffed.

“Listen,” Ian said calmly, “You’ve been working your ass off for us. Stop picking up extra shifts  
and go to Yev’s baseball practices, I know you’ve been wanting to go. Go. Let me take care of  
you for a change.”

Mickey gnawed at the inside of his cheek and thought about it for a moment, “I’m only taking this  
because I know Yev really wants me there.”

Ian nodded, “I know.”

“And I don’t wanna hear another fucking word about that guy or any dumb fucking money that  
has to do with him. We’re done with all of that,” Mickey cautioned.

“So done,” Ian confirmed.

“Now, go heat up my meal, bitch. It better be bleeding,” Mickey roughed up Ian’s hair and  
pecked his lips.

“My man’s so romantic,” Ian playfully swooned, climbing off of Mickey’s lap so he could warm  
his lunch. He situated the meat and potatoes on the plate as Mickey called:

“I don’t hear it ‘mooing’”

Ian rolled his eyes and mentally prepared himself for slew of complaints that were about to come  
his way. There was no way the steak was bloody enough for his savage.

Chapter Thirty-Four: A Lucky Man

Ian had been at FIG for a week and Mickey had to admit it was distracting as hell having his  
fiancé work with him. He thought they would be able to keep it together better than they had at  
the Kash and Grab all those years ago, and he was right, but just barely. There were stolen  
glances, touches, and kisses, but he promised himself he wasn't going to bang Ian while they were  
at work.

"Hot as balls out there," Ian complained, breaking into a mischievous smirk when he noticed  
Mickey's eyes drinking him in.

As he watched the redhead wipe the back of his neck with a towel and throw it over his shoulder,  
he reminded himself that he wasn't going to fuck Ian at work.

"You hot, Mick?" He flirted moving closer to the table Mickey was leaning against. They were in  
the spacious kitchen of the Garfield Park Conservatory catering a Junior League luncheon.  
Mickey cleared his throat and flicked at his nose with the pad of his thumb, "Mmmhmm."  
His eyes darted around the room to see if they were in the clear. A few of their coworkers were  
milling about, but thankfully they were all too busy performing their closing duties to pay any  
attention to them. "C'mere," He prompted taking few steps forward to grasp the back of Ian's head  
and pull him down for a kiss. They melted into it, each allowing their hands to run through hair,  
stroke faces, feel connected. When he felt the kiss heating up to a dangerous level, he peeled his  
lips off of Ian's.

Ian came right back for more, planting sweet kisses on Mickey's lips until the brunet pushed him  
back, "Alright, alright, ain't tryin' to get fired, Gallagher."

"You started it," Ian reminded him, looping his arms around Mickey's waist and burying his face  
into Mickey's neck so he could nip at the skin gently, "Y'know, I can't help myself."  
Mickey rubbed his hands over the back of Ian's sweaty shirt, loving the feel of his fiancé's strong  
muscles beneath it, "You're workin' a dinner tonight, yeah?"

"Mmmhmm," Ian confirmed his face still nestled into Mickey's neck, "The Benjamin House  
benefit."

"Back still sore?" Mickey asked beginning to knead just below Ian's shoulder blades.

"Feels good," Ian hummed leaning into Mickey further so the shorter man could get better  
leverage.

"What do I have to do to get a back massage?" Sam joked placing his tray of plates by the  
washing station.

"Uh, suck my dick," Mickey replied plainly, continuing to work out Ian's knots. Ian laughed softly  
into Mickey's shoulder and gave his side a playful squeeze.

"Sorry, have a boyfriend," Sam said with a grin, "We still on for tomorrow morning?"

Ian straightened up, turned so he could face Sam and smiled, "Definitely. We're looking forward  
to it." He leaned his back against Mickey's chest prompting the brunet to instinctively wrap his  
arms around Ian's waist.

"Speak for yourself," Mickey groused, "I can think of like 10 things I'd rather do than go on some  
faggy-double-pancake-date."

"Oh yeah, what?" Sam asked with an amused lift of his eyebrows.

Ian sighed, knowing that they were both about to get an earful. As much as he loved to give  
Mickey shit about his cranky rants, he couldn't get enough of them.

"Suck his dick, have him suck my dick, some ass eating, little nipple pinching, ride him, have him  
fuck me into the mattress, fuck him into the mattress, 69, fuck around with vibrators," Mickey  
stated ticking his fingers as counted, "How many was that? 9?" He thought for a few seconds,  
"Make out."

Ian rolled his eyes and chuckled while Sam threw up his hands and said, "Fair, fair. That all you  
guys do? Have a shit ton of sex?"

"Nah, we do other things, right Mick?" Ian said tilting his chin so he could look at Mickey's face,  
"Like..." He broke out into a big, toothy smile trying to think of things to name when all that was  
on his mind was the slew of activities Mickey had just rattled off.

"We play video games," Mickey began slowly, "Watch TV."

"Talk about our day and feelings," Ian added, earning him a sidelong glare from Mickey, "Umm,"  
His eyes scanned he room as if he was searching for more, "we eat."

"Food, yeah, we eat food," Mickey agreed with a nod, "He runs."

"I do," Ian confirmed, "I read while Mickey lays there asking me every few minutes what's  
happening." Mickey scoffed and rolled his eyes wanting to deny the claim, but he knew he  
couldn't.

"Why don't you read the same book?" Sam asked with a laugh.

"We ain't a fucking book club," Mickey huffed, "and besides, I'm not interested in that shit."

Sam squinted his eyes in confusion at the contradictory statements.

"What else..." Ian said clicking his tongue, "Uhh, we fuck a lot."

Mickey nodded his head in the affirmative, "Pretty much."

"Full circle then," Sam smiled, "You two are the cutest, I swear."

"This is why I'm not into going tomorrow," Mickey told Ian as if Sam wasn't standing right there,  
"They both say weird shit like that all the time."

"We'll be good," Sam assured him, "Promise. See ya tomorrow."

"See you," Ian said pleasantly as Mickey grumbled something under his breath. Ian swung around  
to put a palm on each of Mickey's cheeks, "So grumpy."

"And..." Mickey raised his eyebrows with a slight smirk on his lips.

"I love you," Ian laughed, giving him a kiss.

"Love you, too. I gotta go to Yev's practice. Starts soon," Mickey said patting Ian's hip.  
Ian gave him one last peck before dropping his hands, "Have a good time. Text me and tell me  
how it is?"

Mickey nodded, "I will. See you at home."

He began to walk towards the door when Ian grabbed his hand and pulled him back in, "One  
more," He laid a kiss on Mickey's grinning lips, "See you."

By the time Mickey made it to Yev's school, practice was in full swing. He caught sight of Kev  
sitting on the bleachers and headed over to join him. "Well, well, well. Mickey, my man," Kev  
stood up to give Mickey a hug. The shorter man stood there awkwardly for a moment and tapped  
Kev's back to indicate the act of affection was over, "Good to see you here."

They took a seat, "How's he doin'?" Mickey asked, watching Yev run laps with the rest of the  
kids. He was the smallest of the bunch, but seemed to be holding his own and keeping up pace  
with his longer legged peers. He caught sight of Amy and Gemma lagging far behind, looking like  
they were engaged in a heated discussion and not too concerned with the task at hand.

"Fast little fucker. Must take after you, all that running from the cops," Kev teased nudging  
Mickey's arm with his elbow.

"Yeah, yeah. Didn't run fast enough that last time," He stated, pulling his carton of cigarettes.

"Can't smoke here," Kev informed him.

"You serious?" Mickey griped, shaking his head in annoyance.

"Yeah, it's a school," Kev said matter-of-factly, "Can't smoke at a school."

"We're outside. I ain't lighting up in the Boys' bathroom," Mickey sighed and relented putting the  
cigarettes back into his pocket.

"Still school property." Kev said with a shrug, "Look at my girls. They never stop taking, I swear,  
I'm surrounded by too many fucking women."

Mickey grinned, "You say the same shit every time I'm around your goofy ass. Don't know why  
you thought having two wives was a smart idea."

"Nobody ever said I was smart," Kev retorted, grimacing at his own statement, "Whatever. How  
are things with you?"

"Can't complain," Mickey replied.

"Heard that you and Ian are tying the knot. Congratulations. I'm happy for you two," He slapped  
Mickey on the back companionably," Knew you couldn't stay away from each other. Could tell  
you guys were 'fatal attraction' all those years ago."

Mickey just rolled his eyes and muttered a "Thanks."

The kids had completed their laps and broke off into pairs to toss a ball back and forth, practicing  
their glove handling.

"Am I gonna be invited to the wedding? Gotta dust off my suit."

"Haven't talked about what we're doing yet, but you aren't gonna need a suit. Know that much,"  
Mickey replied.

"So I'm invited? Sweet!" Kev exclaimed.

"Said I didn't know what we're doing."

"To be honest, I'm more about the bachelor party anyway," Kev shrugged. Mickey rubbed his  
forehead and rolled his eyes, but Kev continued, "I know, I know, you think it won't be my type  
of party because of all the cock, but I'm into cock. Don't wanna fuck one, but I'm overloaded on  
titties, gotta change it up."

"Shit, shut the fuck up man," Mickey groaned, "You can come ok. Whatever we're doing, your  
there. Just shut up."

"Cool, cool, I'll see if it fits in my calendar," Kev said, leaning back and resting his elbows on the  
bleacher behind him, "Seriously, how are things? With you? Yev?"

"He say anything?" Mickey asked biting his lip and nudging his nose with his knuckle, "'bout me  
or whatever."

"You know, kids are emotional, little time-bombs of emotion," Kev replied vaguely, "Can I give  
you some advice? Dad to dad?"

Mickey nodded his head, keeping his eyes forward, fixed on Yev. The boy caught sight of him  
and gave him a quick wave. Mickey waved back and he noticed his son had a little extra bounce  
in his step as he moved to the next drill.

"So, kids don't give a shit about your feelings. Not really. They don't care about what you're  
struggling with or what shit happened to you in the past. They care about themselves. They're  
born these needy little leeches that drain you of energy, money, and love. Mostly, love," He  
contemplated the thought for a moment and went on, "Y'know they never asked to be here, so the  
sacrifice we make is to stop giving a shit about ourselves as much, push all our baggage aside, and  
show love to the little tyrants."

Mickey continued to watch Yev.

"Listen, Mick, I know you haven't had it easy. Not at all," Kev began, but was cut off by Mickey  
shaking his head and saying:

"Nah, we ain't going there, don't need your fucking pity."

"Hold on, hold on," Kev sputtered sitting up so he could see Mickey's profile, "No pity here. I  
grew up shitty, too. I just know, even though you seem like a dick most of the time..."

Mickey huffed but couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Even though you seem like a dick, you're a really fucking good guy. Yev sees that, he knows  
that. He just wants more of that. More of you. I'm good at sharing, right? Share my wives... kids  
aren't good at sharing. It ain't the kids fault. They want all the love and good shit for themselves.  
Yev just got you outta prison and almost right off the bat, he's sharing you. You get where I'm  
going with this?"

Mickey nodded, "Yeah," and he did.

"You're here, man. You're here, right now, at this ball field, and that's fucking awesome," Kev  
said patting Mickey's knee, "You're doing good, Mick."

Mickey bit his lip and nodded again. He felt like he was doing well and knew he was going to do  
even better, because he wanted to.

Chapter Thirty-Five: Something More This Time

Singing ain't this life so sweet

"This would've been the perfect day to stay in bed," Mickey complained, messing with his  
umbrella as they made their way to Patsy's. It was a dreary morning and the gray clouds had  
already dumped a good amount of precipitation on the Chicago streets, "Could've slept in, but  
instead we're out in the fucking rain."

"This was the only time we all were off of work," Ian said simply, "Sam and Tim are nice. It's  
good to have friends."

"Why?" Mickey asked, clearly not convinced that they needed to expand their circle.

"To do things with, talk to about stuff," Ian said with a shrug. "Be social."

"I got you for that," Mickey informed him, "The fuck do I need them for?"

"Just...," Ian exhaled, rolling his eyes, "Be nice, alright?"

"Whatever," Mickey grumbled as Ian pulled open the door to Patsy's. They dropped their wet  
umbrellas in the holder and surveyed the crowded restaurant for Sam and Tim, "They're not even  
here yet and you were riding my ass about being late."

"You're grumpy because I wasn't riding your ass," Ian reminded him with a smirk. He stepped  
behind Mickey so that he could drape his arms over the shorter man's shoulders while they waited  
to be seated.

"That too," Mickey conceded placing his hands over Ian's.

"Are you gonna wear a ring?" Ian asked, consciously tracing his fingertips over Mickey's ring  
finger.

"Hey!" Fiona exclaimed, barreling over to the couple before Mickey could answer, "Two times in  
one month, how'd I get so lucky?"

Ian untagled his arms so he could break away from Mickey and give Fiona a hug.

"I like the scruff," She complimented, playfully pinching his whiskered cheek, "Looks good." She  
smiled at Mickey and said 'Hey' and he nodded his greeting.

"How's it going?" He asked taking in his sister's appearance. She looked too thin, too tired.

"Super busy. I'm off tomorrow mornings. We should go for a run, catch up," She suggested  
patting down his hair, "hair's getting long, too."

"We could do that, sure. I don't have to be to work until 10," Ian replied.

"Lip told me you were bussing, could've come back here, y'know. I offered," Fiona reminded  
him, "Would've loved to have you back."

"Eh, that didn't go well last time" Ian said with a small grin, "Besides I'm working with Mick,  
so..."

Fiona nodded her head in understanding, "And things are good for you, Mickey?" She asked  
turning to the brunet whose eyes were scanning the room.

He looked at her, blue eyes slightly hard. Years of history made it difficult for him to let his guard  
down around Fiona but he knew that with time, he'd have to try to accept her like she'd have to  
grow to accept him.

Though Ian was going through a cycle of distance with his family, Mickey was aware that they  
always came back to each other. Marrying Ian was going to connect him to the Gallaghers for life,  
which was a thought that didn't thrill him, but Ian was worth the sacrifice. "Yeah, things are  
good," Mickey responded.

"Good," She smiled, "Let's get you guys a table."

"We have a couple of friends meeting us so we need a four-top," Ian informed her reaching down  
to intertwine his fingers with Mickey's.

"Friends? That's great!" Fiona chirped, excitedly, "Really, really great." She grabbed four menus  
and led them to an empty booth, "Beth will be right with you guys."

They slid into the booth next to each other with Mickey mumbling complaints about the  
Gallaghers and friends.

"You guys come here often?" Sam joked approaching the table. Both he and Tim were smiling  
brightly.

"You're late," Mickey shot, waving out his hand to indicate that they should sit down.

"Long time no see," Ian teased fist bumping Sam, "and actually long time no see," He said  
grinning at Tim, "How are you, man?"

"Good! Club's not the same without you," He said with a click of his tongue, "but I'm glad you  
got out. Your exit was epic, Red, everyone talks about you like you're a fucking legend."

"Yeah?" Ian questioned, raising his eyebrows in surprise. He turned to his fiancé and gave him a  
goofy grin, "Hear that, Mick, I'm a legend." He leaned in to kiss his cheek and Mickey whispered  
lowly in his ear:

"You were a fuckin' legend the minute you put on those skimpy-ass shorts."

Ian laughed and rested his hand on Mickey's upper thigh, turning back to their table-mates, "So,  
everything is pretty good, but the chocolate chip pancakes are our favorite."

"Mmm sounds good to me," Tim said licking his lips.

"He has a thing for chocolate," Sam teased patting Tim's cheek so he'd turn and give him a kiss,

"We totally give you credit for being our matchmaker, Mickey."

"Yeah, we're so grateful for your big mouth," Tim added with a smirk. "Who knew you could use  
it for good?"

Ian playfully raised his hand and Mickey just rolled his eyes, trying not to smile.

By the time their pancakes arrived, they were just getting into a wedding discussion.

"So, tell us more about the big day," Tim prompted taking a bite of his pancakes, "Oh shit, these  
are fucking awesome," He said his mouth full.

"Well, we're gonna get married on June 14th," Ian said grinning at Mickey who blushed a bit and  
looked down at his pancakes.

"How'd you pick that date? Any significance?" Sam asked.

"Date of our first kiss," Ian replied causing Sam and Tim to gush over the cuteness.

"Gallagher, wrote it in his diary with doodles of hearts and shit," Mickey teased, "Practiced  
signing 'Ian Milkovich' all fancy."

"Fuck off," Ian laughed, shaking his head with mock disapproval, "and that's pretty much all  
we've discussed," he admitted, "I mean, with each other."

"With each other?" Mickey questioned, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

"Talked to Mandy about it a bit," Ian said causally, with a shrug to emphasize how  
unceremonious it was. Mickey had a hunch that the conversation was anything but offhanded.

"Oh yeah? What'd you princesses come up with?" Mickey asked shoving a heaping forkful into  
his mouth.

"Do you wanna talk about it now?" Ian asked skeptically, knowing that wedding discussions  
weren't necessarily Mickey's favorite conversations.

"We're among friends, right?" Mickey said with flair, causing Sam and Tim to nod  
enthusiastically, "Tell me about it."

"Well... I don't want to do it at the courthouse," Ian began, turning to Mickey, "You know that  
already."

Mickey nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"The courthouse would be too cold," Sam agreed, "Not personal enough."

"Yeah, so, everything is pretty expensive but Mandy found out you can rent a pavilion at Jackson  
Park for like $300. There are a bunch of them, and they're kinda small, but they have picnic tables  
and a few grills so you can bring food and beer or whatever. I thought it could be kinda cool," Ian  
said mostly to Mickey, who stopped scarfing down his pancakes so he could actively listen.

"Who marries you, though?" Sam cut in, "Do you have to get a judge or priest or something  
separately?"

"Yeah, you have to hire someone, so that's some more money," Ian relented.

"How much?" Mickey asked gnawing at the inside of his cheek.

"Another $300 or so," Ian responded with a sigh.

Mickey shook his head to indicate it was too much, "I know you don't wanna do the court thing,  
Ian, but this is gonna get expensive."

"I could do it," Tim offered, "I'm ordained, married my sister and brother-in-law."

"You'd do that for us?" Ian asked, eyes wide.

Tim laughed lightly, "You serious? Of course, man. You guys are goals, no joke. You don't have  
to tell me now... don't wanna put pressure on you."

"If you'd do it, that'd be great, Moe," Mickey said biting his lip.

Tim smiled broadly as Ian turned to Mickey to see if he was all in. The grin on his face showed he  
was. "June 14th, Jackson Park, Tim/Moe, we're doing this?" Ian clarified.

"We're doing this," Mickey confirmed, smiling into the kiss Ian laid on his lips, "Now eat your  
fucking pancakes."

The rain had stopped by the time they were ready to walk home, so their pace was much more  
leisurely than it had been on the way to Patsy's.

The air was still damp and the smell of spring on the South Side was all around them. It was  
familiar, harkening memories of afternoons sneaking into Sox games, screwing in dugouts or  
under bleachers, and being young, lost, in love.

Mickey reached over to hold Ian's hand and rubbed his fingertips over the skin where a ring  
would be just how Ian had earlier, "I think we should."

"Should what?"

"Wear rings," Mickey clarified, "I think we should."

"Really?" Ian asked with a grin.

"Yeah really, fuck Gallagher, why are you so surprised? I'm fucking in this," Mickey replied  
exasperated.

Ian shrugged, "Don't know. Old habits, I guess? None of it seems like your thing, you know? Just  
don't wanna push you into things."

The brunet shook his head, "I'm in this," Mickey repeated. He stopped and turned so he could  
look in Ian's eyes. Blue on green. He placed his free hand on the redhead's chest, "I want this. All  
of it. With you, ok?"

"Yes," Ian breathed melting under Mickey's touch. And then they were kissing, intense and  
passionate, right there on the sidewalk, not phased by the passerbys who smiled or scoffed. Hands  
on faces and tongues in mouths, they struggled to get enough, unable to feel truly satisfied due to  
the distance that having two bodies instead of one dictated. Ian wasn't sure if he actually uttered  
the words 'I love you' into Mickey's mouth or if Mickey just knew, if Mickey finally felt Ian's love  
down to his bones, coursing through his veins, in the cells of his skin. If he did, if he really got it,  
then Ian had done enough, proved enough, loved enough, been enough and that's all he wanted.

"I love you, too," Mickey said softly, dipping his head down so his forehead was resting on Ian's  
chest.

"Gonna spend my life showing you how much I love you, Mick, I promise," Ian said vehemently,  
rubbing his back as he hugged him tight, "Gonna love you like you deserve to be loved."

"You're getting too fucking gay, Gallagher, I swear," Mickey laughed lightly, lifting his head so  
Ian was staring down into his face. Though others would miss it, because they never took the time  
to linger in those pale blue eyes, Ian didn't. He could see the moisture of tears welling in his  
fiancé's tear ducts, "Fuck," He said shaking his head, pressing the heels of his hands against his  
eyes, "Gnat or some shit flew in my eye."

"In both of 'em?" Ian asked with a smirk, "A gnat flew in both of your eyes?"

"He was ambitious little fucker," Mickey replied, shrugging.

"Ah, an ambitious little fucker," Ian raised his eyebrows and squeezed Mickey's sides right on his  
ticklish spots, the forbidden spots. He laughed devilishly and immediately started running, wind  
through his hair, joy in his heart.

"I warned you, asshole," Mickey called charging after him. He chased him down the street,  
weaving and dodging other pedestrians, running after Ian, knowing he'd catch him, because Ian  
never ran so far anymore.


End file.
